Dark Hope
by Irene Sharda
Summary: Isis never dared to dream that she could become something more than a slave...until she met Quirinus Le Creuset. But how do you heal someone whose scars run so deep they reach the soul? How do you love someone so much, that they want to love you back?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own the Dark Series or any characters belonging to the world created by Christine Feehan or any other authors. (this is the only such note that I will post about such things)

**Chapter 1**

Isis laid her head lightly on the floor, only wincing slightly as the ice-cold ground touched her throbbing flesh. She tried curling into the comforting fetal position, a futile but soothing attempt to warm her freezing naked body.

The manacles around her wrists, ankles, and neck cut slightly as she changed her position, putting renewed tension on the chains that held her to the wall. Her restraints were too short and too tight, so even the slightest of movements pained her as the heavy irons cut into her skin. No one cared. Who ever cared about the pain of a slave?

The chains weren't there to make sure she didn't run away. Her owner knew that she knew the rules. He had made sure of that.

The chains had simply been put on her because—he enjoyed it. He loved to think of her, chained to the wall in his bedroom, waiting until his return.

She shuddered at the thought of her master, and instantly made her mind go blank. To think on him too long, was too frightening, and she would end up losing her careful self-control. She had to go to the bathroom really bad, but she had to wait for his permission. If she lost her control on her bladder, she would be unable to stop herself and would release everything right there on his floor. Once before when that had happened, he had beaten her so badly, she had hardly been able to move for three days, and of course no one called the doctor for a slave. Not wanting a repeat session, she instead began to think on other things.

Ignoring the pain of the countless bruises and cuts that covered her body, she retreated into herself. She was alone, always lonely, but she didn't mind. When she was alone, without a master to serve, she could think on pretty things she could barely remember. She hadn't been the outside in years, and her mind could only remember small glimpses from what she had seen outside windows. The image of the majestic purple of iris flowers…the smell of fresh rain over grassy fields…the sound of little children running and playing while their mother looked on them lovingly as she hung out the freshly washed linen to dry on the clothes line…the touch of the woman's husband as he wrapped his strong arms around her waist and then twirled her in the air with adoring flourish…her imagination worked overtime to give her the only glimpse she would ever see of life outside her prison walls. She knew this life could, _would_ never be hers. She was a slave, and she would never deserve love or caring. It was her role in life, would always be her role in life, and she had long ago accepted that. However, when she was in her own little world, she wished that…she wished that she could just be _that_ family's slave. She had a feeling that she wouldn't mind the cold nights and harsh punishments if only she lived there. If she could just be near that kind love, that would be enough for her, she would do anything, and suffer anything if just for that.

Sudden footsteps woke her up from her reverie, and she frowned slightly with sadness as her dream world disappeared within her. She was alone again, in that cold dead room, the chains still cutting into her nearly numb body—back to reality.

The sound of the door swinging open, told her she was no longer alone.

A feeling of dread settled over her and a sense of fresh fear. Her master was not happy; she could feel it…

The footsteps came closer until she could actually see the booted feet standing directly in front of her. She could feel his dark eyes roving over her body; it sent an almost invisible shiver down her back. However, as in most things, his sharp eyes picked up on even the most invisible of things. She sensed more than saw the smirk that came upon his face, and it only made her shiver more.

"Aren't you supposed to be kneeling?" His voice asked her, the cruel malice on his tongue bit through the air.

Totally forgetting that she was lying curled up on her side, she quickly scrambled to get into the correct position. A gasp of pain escaped her as her muscles protested to the sudden movement. Fearful that the show of soreness might entice him, she rapidly kneeled in front of her owner, pressing her forehead to the ground, hoping that he would forgive her for her stupidity.

He didn't say a word for a few seconds, and after awhile she thought maybe he had left again, but then she felt his hand move through her dirty jet black hair almost lovingly.

She shuddered visibly from his touch…

"How's my little Icy today? I hope you didn't miss me too much."

She gritted her teeth, as his pet name for her grated on her mind, annoying her to no end. He called her that exactly for that reason. But she endured it, for what could she do? A slave never talked back to her owner…

Somehow he caught her inner displeasure, as his grasp became tighter and more violent. His voice was quiet, the sting of cruelty on the edge of his tongue as he whispered into her ear. "Tell me you missed me."

She flinched as his warm breath touched her ear, her fear making her voice break up. "I-I I m-miss-sed y-you."

His hand hit her face hard, a sharp slap causing her to cut her lips on her teeth and her ears ring, knocking her to the floor with sudden force. He gritted his teeth in anger, "How many times have I told you to call me 'Master' when you're talking to me?"

He dragged her up violently by her long hair, "You worthless piece of crap!" He struck her across her other cheek in rage, sending her once again to the floor.

She knew she was in for it now. He had had a bad day, and she had set him off with her senselessness. She cursed herself for what an idiot she was.

A hard kick was delivered to her ribs, causing she bit back a scream of pain. "Well?" he yelled with livid impatience.

Isis whimpered in fear and cowered on the ground even more than before.

"I'm sorry Master," she squeaked out as she gasped for air, "P-Please forgive me."

Her owner hoisted her up by her neck, as far as the chains would allow. His cruel brown eyes burned into her cerulean ones as if feeding from the fear held within them. He loved seeing that fear…the delicious compliance and total obedience that filtered from out of her every pore. She was without a doubt, the most beautiful slave in his household, and therefore he had quickly separated her from the others and made her his bed-slave. He wanted her all to himself, and he didn't want her to pick up any kind of wrong ideas or behaviors from being around the other slaves and forming relationships. She was lusciously broken in both spirit and body, and that's how he wanted her to stay.

He let her go and watched as she tumbled to the floor. She immediately went into the standard kneeling position that all of his slaves assumed when in his presence, still shuddering, no doubt wondering what he would do next.

Quietly, he kicked off his shoes, and then cracked his neck tiredly. Taking a key from his pocket, he unlocked the shackles that were around her neck and limbs. She didn't move an inch as the heavy manacles fell off of her.

Suddenly famished from the events that had happened in the company that day, he decided to withhold his relaxation, and get something to eat. He pointed to the closet, as he headed back out the door to get some food from the kitchen. "Get some clothes on, wench, and then wait for me."

She scrambled up quickly to follow his order, and he took a second to watch as her lithe body moved sensually towards the direction he had indicated, even though that had never been her intention. Smiling with wanton lust upon his lips, he strode out of the room, many different ideas running through his head—none of them innocent.

Isis watched her owner leave from the corner of her eye. Sighing slightly in relief, she quickly did as commanded and put on one of the ensembles of clothes that he had designated were for her. The only clothes he allowed her to wear were outrageously flimsy but annoyingly complicated lingerie that left very little to the imagination. But it was better than nothing, for even though it was very transparent clothing, it gave her some semblance of warmth and protection—which in this place, with her most recent owner, was quite a rare find.

Her bladder felt like it had gone beyond the point of bursting, and it was screaming at her for relief. Now that she was free, she could use his personal bathroom. However, he had not given her permission, and if he caught her he would become angry again. But if she had an accident within his room, he would be furious and she would rather take the lesser of two evils. Besides…he had only said for her to wait for him, he didn't say where…

Hurrying over to the bathroom, she quickly did what she needed to do, sighing at the sweet relief that shifted over her. She quickly washed her hands, but stopped as she heard the door open slowly. She winced, knowing she would be in for it as she hurriedly dried her hands and waited for him to call her out.

However, when his harsh voice didn't make a sound; didn't demand that she come before him, she opened the door slightly and looked out into the room.

To her surprise, she didn't see her master in the bedroom, but a wiry young woman with long golden hair, tan and white streaks running through its wild tresses. The woman wore rags and was barefoot, an angry burn mark marred her right shoulder in the shape of two intertwining snakes, letting her and everyone else who came in contact with her, know she was a slave. Isis unconsciously touched the identical mark that had been branded into her own shoulder, flinching as though she could still feel the sting.

While she was not allowed to associate with the other slaves in her owner's mansion, she actually recognized the girl. Her name was Xyra and she was a kitchen slave. Isis had talked with her from time to time when she saw the younger woman around, and the two quickly became friends. It was a great risk, since if their master caught them, both would be punished severely, and she would probably never get to see Xyra again.

Right now, the woman was going through her owner's drawers, seemingly looking for something. Isis didn't know what she was doing, but her being her could put them both in danger. "What are you doing here, Xyra? He'll be coming back soon."

The other woman turned, only slightly surprised at seeing Isis there. "I have to find my amulet; I know he's keeping it here. It still has my father's scent on it."

Isis knew that if there was anything of worth on a slave when they came in his ownership, her master took it away since the object, like the slave, now belonged to him. "Xyra, why—?"

"I'm leaving tonight, Isis."

The raven haired woman looked at her friend in utter shock. "Xyra…how…there is no way you can escape him. He'll only catch you and drag you back here."

The blond woman flicked a hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkled with a gold that almost looked alive with magic. "There are movements about, Isis. Unnatural things are coming; I can feel the beast stir within me. I had planned on getting out a long time ago, and now is as good a time as any. I was not born a slave, and neither were you. You should come with me. No one should be subject to the wiles of a man as cruel as the one we are forced to serve."

Isis knew when she looked into those golden, enchanted eyes of her friend, there was no talking her out of escaping. Xyra was determined to leave, and believed there was a way out. She however, sadly knew the truth. No one had ever escaped her master, and she had seen many try. She had never tried herself mind you; her master was not her first owner, and the ones before him had taught her quite brutally, the cost of trying to escape her lot in life. She was a slave, and she had acknowledged that. Why try to hope for something that would never be?

"Aha! Found it!" Xyra lifted the gold and amber amulet from the drawer and quickly clasped it around her neck.

Suddenly, she turned to the doors, and Isis could have sworn that the woman's ears pricked up just like that of an animal's. Isis listened herself and suddenly blanched as she became aware of the heavy footsteps headed toward the bedroom door!

Knowing she would get in horrible trouble for this, but willing to risk it for her only friend, she quickly ran to the door and locked it; taking a chair from under the desk, she wedged it under the door handle. And it wasn't a minute too soon as the doorknob began to turn and then jiggle violently as the person on the other side realized the door was locked. She heard her master's voice yell at her through the wood, and he began banging on the door. Isis pushed against it, adding her simple weight. Looking at Xyra, she nodded toward the window, "Go."

The blonde shook her head, "I can't leave without you."

She suddenly felt added weight as her master must have called some guards to help him. "I can't leave. He'll be in here in a second and then we'll both get caught. He won't kill me—at least I don't think he will—but he doesn't hold you in the same esteem. Now go! Though I have no idea how you think to avoid the guards patrolling this place."

Xyra pushed open the window and pulled herself up onto the sill. She smiled at Isis with true comradeship, "I'll come back for you someday, I promise. And as to how I will escape the guards…humans make up a majority of the intellectual creatures on this earth. However…a majority, is a long way from all."

All of a sudden, the brilliant, mystical gold that made up Xyra's eyes, poured from out of them like metallic tears and began to consume her body! Her entire being was consumed with that gold; a dazzling light devoured her very being, shifting and changing her body into something that was most definitely not human…

After only a few seconds, the light faded, and Isis was even more astounded to see that where Xyra's body had been, now stood a female dingo, Xyra's clothes on the ground and the woman's amulet around the wild dog's neck.

If this wasn't enough for her to almost faint with shock, looking at the dingo's right shoulder blade practically sent her over the edge. There, right where Xyra's mark would have been, the identical slave symbol was also burned into the dog's flesh. This dingo—was Xyra!

The Australian wild dog seemed almost to smile at her over its shoulder, before leaping off of the windowsill and out into the night. Isis didn't know what else to think, but she for once, dared to hope that maybe—just maybe—her enchanted, shape-shifting friend would somehow escape.

Without warning, the wood behind her practically exploded, sending her flying painfully to the ground and the chair to crash against the bed footboard! A vicious hand crushed around her throat and dragged her up from the ground before throwing her against the nearby wall with jarring gusto. As she slumped to the floor, she heard one of the guards call out. "We have a runner."

They had of course seen the open window and the discarded clothes, and would have easily put two and two together. Inside, her heart cracked as she realized her only friend would in all probability be caught after all.

Her owner closed the window in anger, before shouting at his men, "You two get out there and hunt her down. Have someone take a role call and communicate with you on two-way radio to find out who's missing. When you find her, bring her to me. Now get out there…and you know what the penalty is for letting one of my slaves escape. You know I simply detest failure, and anyone who fails me, pays very, _very_ dearly."

"Yes, sir!" The men quickly left the room to do as their employer had dictated, but of course not before they repaired his busted door, placing it back on its hinges once again. If there was one thing their employer hated more than failure, it was having an unkempt house. That was probably why none of the housekeeping slaves seemed to last very long…

A sudden hard foot kicked Isis maliciously in her ribs, causing her to yell out in pain as she heard at least one of her bones crack from the impact.

"You useless little whore! Did you think you could escape me? That you could get away from **me**?!" He picked Isis up by her leg and threw her against the dresser with a slam.

She hit the wood hard, blood running down from her forehead and from her mouth, her left ankle where he had grabbed her, throbbed from being twisted too far in the wrong direction. She fell to the ground and tried to crawl away; her fear of him in his rages was almost suffocating. She trembled and cried out as he pushed her on her back and straddled her sore ribs, then continuously punched her four or five times in the face and upper chest, sending her head snapping back as if through whiplash.

He was furious with her, letting out his vehemence for a few seconds before getting off of her, as to not mar her face in excess. If you damaged your slaves too much, they began losing significant value. He had plans for her, and wouldn't let her detestable behavior mess up his arrangements.

However…that didn't mean she was going to get away with trying to escape, or letting someone else escape. He had thought he had kept her away from the others, but he guessed he had taken her submissive spirit too much for granted.

Her head felt as if it had caved it, blood pouring from her nose, mouth, head, and her jaw felt as if it was swelling. She was glad for the reprieve but knew it wouldn't last long, and her fears were realized when he suddenly grabbed her wrists, dragged her towards the bed, and handcuffed her wrists to the metal footboard post.

His voice slithered angrily in her ear, "I guess I'll have to teach you all over again how to be obedient, Icy. You always have been a glutton for punishment. But don't worry, you'll be getting enough of that where you're going…"

For a minute, she struggled past her pain as her mind concentrated on his words. _'Where she was going'? Did that mean—_

As if knowing her thoughts, he nodded. "Yes Icy, I am selling you, or rather giving you away as a gift. I hope you appreciate how _I_ am with you, because the man who I'm giving you to, makes me look like a saint. He'd tear into you like a wolf into fresh meat, if he ever caught you escaping from _**him**_."

The thought of a new master was just as, or even more appalling than staying with her current one. At least with her current owner, she knew what to expect and what his moods were. But every time she got a new master, she had to start all over again; which was terrifying to say the least…

However, she didn't have much time to think about it, as a loud crack resounded through the air and fire raged through her body! She let out a scream and writhed in pain as the tail of the whip snaked around her body again, cutting into her flesh and drawing spurts of blood. Her master began to flay her body ruthlessly, her ultra-thin clothing shredded to rags by his expert hand and her skin soon following…

Tears of anguish and suffering filled her eyes, as she thought of her fate and the fate of Xyra. She had been wrong. No matter how magical her only friend was, Xyra would get caught. They could never escape being a slave; her first master had taught her that at the tender age of seven, when she was sold by her stepfather to the underground slave market after her mother died of Influenza.

She thought about the future as the rain of blows tore at her flesh, and that her new master was going be worse than her recent one. Her heart filled with a despair she had never known at the thought of the cycle beginning once again. She had thought that she had been through the worst. That men couldn't come any more ruthless than the owner she had now. But again, she had been wrong, and the thing was, that she didn't think she could live through any worse. Her body could probably withstand, but her mind was slowly dying. The day-in, day-out torture and misery that no matter what she did, her master always found something to punish her violently for. And even after the beatings, the whippings, and the broken bones…there was still something even more agonizing to look forward to, and she was sure her master would never disappoint. After all, as he told her so many times—it was what she was made for…

* * *

Isis lay on the floor next to her master's bed, her body in too much pain to move. Tears streamed silently down her face as she had tried to forget what had just happened, but her body, as it did every time he "used" her, _wouldn't_ let her fail to remember.

* * *

After he had finished whipping her, he uncuffed her and threw her against the wall, stripping whatever remaining shreds of cloth were left on her body. Pressing against her, she could easily feel his thick arousal pressing against her naked thigh, causing her to gasp in chagrin.

Running his hand over her body, his rough fingers pressing into her stinging wounds, he whispered to her incoherent sentences of how he was going to miss enjoying her. Turning her around to face him, he pressed into her face with a bruising, rough kiss, while his hand went between her legs and cupped her ferociously. Feeling his fingers touch her she gasped in disgust, but this caused her to almost choke as his tongue worked its way between her lips, pilfering every part of her mouth heartlessly.

She became sick to her stomach and she fought to keep the nausea down, as his hand moved down from her shoulder to fondle her breast, while his fingers continued to ravage her sore opening. She drew within herself as she always did when he overtook her body…which happened to be quite often.

Her mind wandered, and she remembered the first time she was used as a bed slave at the age of ten. Ever since then, she had become quite literally a slave to her master's every desire, and it had only gotten worse with each new owner. She had been made to do many things, and every time she felt more soiled both outside on her body and inside in her spirit…and by now, it was down to the very core of her soul.

Flinching back to the present as he slapped her already bleeding and bruised face, she looked into his raging eyes as he yelled at her in anger. "You're mine you understand? Even when you're with Le Creuset, you will still belong to me."

She looked at him in question. _Le Creuset? That was her new master's name? And what did he mean, she will still 'belong to him'?_

He could see the query and uncertainty in her eyes and smirked at her, but didn't offer out any type of explanation. He instead kissed her ruthlessly before ordering her to crawl onto the bed on her hands and knees.

She mechanically but numbly went to obey, sinking to her knees despite the pain that lanced through her ankle and the many bleeding gashes along her legs and arms. Lying on her back on the bed, she let her true consciousness slowly drain from her body. Her eyes became open but unseeing, her ears hearing but not listening. She receded inside herself, much like she did when she daydreamed. She existed inside herself, curling up in a ball waiting for it to be over. She smiled as she curled there, imagining that her mother was running her fingers through her hair, like she used to do many, many years ago—a lifetime ago.

In some part of her mind that was the basis to answering the commands issued to a slave, she had registered that her master had undressed and was now hunched over her looking hungrily at her body. Her flesh perfunctorily answered and conformed to the way he liked her, with her naked and bleeding body twisted languidly before him like it was begging for his touch. Her body was working on automatic, her mind not paying attention to anything in the physical. It was a practice she had to do quite often in order to keep her sanity. For to her, she was now wrapped in her mother's arms as they sang songs together, and her mother told her magical stories of romances and "forever afters".

_The beautiful princess waited on her windowsill, waiting day after day for her handsome prince to rescue her…_

She felt him push his pulsing cock against her lips and she automatically took it into her mouth, working it as he ordered.

_The princess would sing beautiful songs to guide her prince as she waited by the seashore, watching magical cats run by and enchanted dolphins splash from out of the ocean…_

She felt her master grab her hips roughly and impale himself upon her womanhood, sending unparalleled anguish running through her body, even worse than the whipping she had just had. And his hard and violent thrusts into her didn't make it any better. It didn't matter how many times she had gone through this, it always hurt as it did that very first time. While she couldn't see how, he was obviously finding great pleasure in hearing her screams.

_The mermaids and mermen played with the princess on the shore and told her everything was going to be okay. She was going to find her prince one day and then she would never feel alone again. They would dance on a star-lit terrace and he would sweep her off her feet, telling her how he would always protect her, and that he loved her more than life itself…_

She was suddenly brought into complete consciousness when she felt him pushing her under a freezing cold, high powered shower. She sighed as her dream world disappeared and she once again became aware of reality. The water hurt as well, but it could not compare to anything else that had happened that day.

* * *

After a few minutes, her owner had pulled her from out of the shower and then chained her, cold, wet, and naked, back to her usual spot. He then went back into the bathroom and started a shower for himself.

She had then laid there on the cold floor shivering, and that's where she was now. Her body ached all over, and her insides felt as if they had been torn apart. She curled up in an attempt to get warm, but the gasping pain from her broken ribs wouldn't let her.

The door opened and two female slaves appeared. Neither of them looked at her as one quickly changed the bed linens, while another placed a platter of food onto the nearby table. Isis only glanced at them briefly, before lying back down on the floor and let the water run down her body into a small puddle. All three of them knew their roles as slaves.

The food twisted her stomach for two reasons. One, it was fish, and for some reason, ever since she could remember, seafood revolted her. Not sea creatures exactly, she absolutely loved everything that had to do with the sea; it was the fact that those magnificent creatures had become nothing more than somebody's lunch. And that human, had probably not done anything remotely honorable to justify taking the sea creature's life. She did understand the mechanics of the food chain (despite never having gone to school since she was seven), but it still seemed somehow wrong…

The other reason her stomach had contracted, was that the smell of food of any kind awakened her neglected stomach. She had not eaten anything in two days, for the only way she could get any food, was to wait for her master to notice her hunger and take pity on her. If not, she would remain unfed till she passed out. That had happened once with her third master…it was not an experience she would wish to repeat.

However, she doubted she was going to be allowed any food tonight, especially after what had occurred with Xyra. Hopefully if she pleased him tomorrow, he would give her some sort of scraps from breakfast. But as thoughts of the days to come filled her head, she remembered that she was going to get a new master soon. Someone called "Le Creuset". Her despair returned as she thought of the unknown, supposedly very cruel master she was to soon have. She needn't think of his name, after they owned her she only though of them as her "owner" or "master". If she thought of them by name, she might just slip up and say it one day, and that would bring unnecessary pain she could do without.

Still the thought of this mysterious "Le Creuset" refused to leave her. Yes, she felt absolute terror at the thought of him being even more malicious and vile than her current master. Yet, somewhere in the very depth of her, she felt a spark of interest in the true identity of this mystifying man. She had no idea where the spark had come from, but it was there all the same.

As she heard her master enter the room after his long shower, the steam wafting over the room warming her somewhat, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind and quickly assumed her standard kneeling posture. She watched as he ate in silence, drinking wine that eventually put him to sleep, and finally allowing her to sleep herself.

As Isis laid there ignoring the immense pain and cold, she made herself enter some sort of state of sleep. She thought about her friend Xyra and how close her owner's men were to recapturing her. The knowledge of what her master would do to the young magical woman when she was returned to him, greatly dismayed her. To get away from those thoughts, her mind once again shifted to thoughts of her future owner. What would Le Creuset be like? Would he be kind enough to give her food and clothes, or would he love seeing her silently suffer? If he was anything like her master now, she could expect much more of the second option than the first.

Isis fell asleep uneasily, her mind filled with terrifying uncertainty. After a few seconds, she started to relax slightly as she began to finally dream…her dreams were filled with thoughts of her mother, the beautiful ocean, wide open fields of flowers, mermaids, and of course—her very own charming prince…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He walked along the night streets of the busy capital of Sydney, the heat from the day still radiating into the night. He was given a few looks on account of the dark sunglasses he wore despite the sun having long abandoned the sky, but for the most part he was ignored.

He had already fed that evening, but as usual, it didn't quench his thirst in the least. His deprived cells still continued to scream out for nourishment, and it was taking more and more of his strength of mind in order to ignore that hidden desire…

As the throng of human bodies passed by him along the crowded streets, he could hear their hearts plainly beating like drums at some tribal gathering, the blood rushing through their veins called to his very soul—and to the beast that resided there…the beast that was constantly trying to struggle for supremacy, and nothing seemed to sate that ravishing desire.

He sighed and forced his hunger down with the best of his true essence. He knew he had gone on for too long, and that by this point, facing the sun was no longer an option. However, the alternative wasn't an option either. To become a traitor to his people, to place the very greatest burden on his twin brother's shoulders, to become the very thing he hunted…it brought despair to the very center of his depths.

Quirinus Le Creuset felt as if he was already lost, and even the presence of his blood brother and their best friend, who was positioned on the nearby islands, didn't bring any relief from the angry hunger that practically consumed him.

As the world passed by him in monotonous black, white, and grey tones to his colorblind eyes, the beast struggled against him, wanting to feel a sensation, any sensation. His emotions and colors had left him at the tender age of 100, a whole century before the normal age of "puberty" for a Carpathian male. It was a strange standard for the great hunters of their time. The same had also happened to many of the De La Cruz brothers and their companions, the Malinovs. The great warrior Falcon, and even their comrades and brothers-in-arms, the legendary twins Gabriel and Lucian, had all lost their emotions early and had began the fight against their inner beasts long before they should have.

Yet, it wasn't like he didn't know that the minute he stepped onto this continent, he had signed his own death sentence. Quirinus and his twin brother Calix, as well as his closest comrades—who were practically his brothers in all but blood—Lucian, Gabriel, and Fáelán, had answered the call to arms by their prince. Vlad had not commanded them to go out into the world, knowing what a burden being away from the homeland and people would be upon them. That it was condemning them to death, being away from any females of their species and any chance of finding their other halves, the saviors of their souls. But they had done as honor bid them and answered the warriors' call.

The angelic hunter twins, Gabriel and Lucian had been kept in the homeland as a secure line of defense, since the time of war was encroaching fast upon their people and their allies. He and Calix had been sent to the continent island of Australia, and thankfully their familiar companion Fáelán had been stationed over New Zealand and lower Asia, and therefore the three of them communicated often.

Centuries had gone by, times had changed. Prince Vlad and his lifemate had died and it was said that his son Mikhail had taken his place. Soon came the joyous revelation that human women with special mental/physical abilities, some sort of extra sensory perception, could become the lifemates of Carpathian males. They had heard many tales over their people's central telepathic link that said that many ancients had begun to return to the homeland, and many of them had found their lifemates.

Quirinus had never believed the report that Lucian had joined the ranks of the undead. Both he and Lucian were the slightly older twin in their respective cases, and he knew that neither of them would have ever allowed themselves to turn and give such a huge burden to their younger brother. Just as Gabriel had suffered greatly during that time, he knew what it would feel like if it was himself or Calix. He knew what his best friend's plan had been from the beginning, and was only slightly miffed that Lucian had implemented such a thing _first_. So when they had heard the truth of Lucian's true sacrifice for his brother, Quirinus had only nodded in assurance, knowing all along; the great hunter had loved Gabriel, just as much as he cared for Calix.

It gave him great hope when he heard that both his best friends had found their lifemates, and that the Carpathians along with many of their healers were aiding the prince in finding a solution to their impinging extinction. More children were being born and more ancients were turning up alive, even the great Dragonseeker clan was beginning to rise once again. But with the good news, also came the bad.

The news about the vampires collaborating together and uniting with the dark mage Xavier (who had somehow turned up alive) as well as his grandson and other mages of much talent, along with the betrayal of the powerful Malinov brothers who had been part of an assassination attempt on Prince Mikhail, were huge blows. With the Malinovs as part of the undead, Fáelán was forced to extend his territory north and handle what the brothers had abandoned. He and Calix handled some of their friend's neglected territory in New Zealand now, but the many kills they had to make were now telling tales on their souls. Quirinus was worried about Fáelán who took on the territory by himself, and that the male now hardly risked to come out in human form.

All three of them had as of yet, to pledge their allegiance to their new prince, but they had had very little opportunity to get away. However, after the recent attacks in the Carpathian Mountains, things in the world down under had become suspiciously quiet. Even their business life was beginning to be more interesting than their true duties.

Le Creuset was a name known throughout the Australian business world. He and his twin kept themselves anonymous, while their human employees did all the day-to-day work. Their species weaknesses during the daylight hours, kept them from putting any real trust in their human aides, especially after the many reports of the rising popularity and activities of the fanatic "vampire"-hunting Society, so they mostly controlled the humans closest to them through taking their blood.

In recent days, their company was entering some merger deals with several other organizations and companies. They didn't really care all that much about it, since they already had enough wealth to live extravagantly for five lifetimes, and money really meant very little to his people and was just a means to an end. However, in some of the latest deals he had looked over, he had seen that they were beginning to make some business transactions with a company called "Morrison Biotechnology". Warning bells rang out in his head as he remembered hearing of the link between a group called Morrison and its dealings with the undead.

Instantly suspicious, he ordered his employees to cut all connections with the company, while he looked into them secretly using unnatural methods. However, at the plan of breaking of the merger, Morrison had requested a meeting between their representatives and the Le Creuset International Corp. presidents, which meant that one of the brothers had to attend the meeting. Not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves, they complied with the request, but insisted that the meeting be at night. Calix had drawn the short straw and had made his presence known in the business conference earlier that evening.

Speaking of which, he suddenly felt a familiar buzzing in his head as Quirinus slipped into a dark alcove and quickly shifted to the guise of a scarlet wedge-tailed eagle as he took to the air, barely noticed by the humans on the roads below.

'_You owe me big, Quirinus.'_ His twin brother's voice grumbled emotionlessly in his mind.

He answered back in kind, using the personal mind link the two of them shared. '_I always have, just as you owe as much to me. Are not I correct,_ Callistus_?'_

He could almost hear his brother bristle at the use of his use of his christened name. '_We may have both lost our emotions brother, but one thing we both know, is how much that I __hate__ that name…'_

Unlike most Carpathians, his twin had simply hated his true name and instead insisted on going by the shortened version of it: Calix. Quirinus was practically the only one who could use his full name and get away with it—barely. '_So how did it go, Calix? What did you find out?'_

'_Nothing really important, I stuck to my guns and said no to everything they tried to bargain off. You should have seen how prickly they were when I refused to remove my sunglasses. I wonder how even more unhappy they would have been, had I taken them off. Anyway, altogether they thought I was being too stubborn, but obviously they don't know the Carpathian male persona well. If you looked up stubborn or dominating in the dictionary, you would probably find one of our faces there, right next to it.' _

Quirinus smiled slightly as he remembered that his brother had somehow retained his sense of humor, despite all of his emotions being removed. Both brothers wore sunglasses day or night unless in the presence of each other or Fáelán; the reasons were completely their own and the business of no other. However, there was more about the men he wished to know. _'I could care less about how the company negotiations went, Calix.'_

'_I know. The men that the Morrison Biotech sent definitely weren't the undead and they weren't being controlled either. However, the more I scanned their minds, the more I could tell a presence that shouldn't be there. It was observing through the eyes of the three humans, I could tell that much, but as far as what that presence was, I can't say for sure. It wasn't vampire, but it defiantly wasn't human or Carpathian. One thing I do know. They were pretty adamant about getting a foothold here in Australia, and they didn't appreciate it very much that we stood in their way. There are evil forces afoot, brother, and I think it has to do with something other than the human food supply.'_

He respected his brother's instinct, and for the most part his own instincts were saying pretty much the same thing. If the vampires wanted something in Australia, it might be something that could endanger their prince, and furthermore, their entire race.

Calix spoke his thoughts, knowing exactly what was going through Quirinus' head. _'It might be time to head back home. If Morrison Biotech's movements here eventually pose a threat to our people, it is our duty to get this information to Prince Mikhail.'_

He flew outside of the city, towards the rugged but peaceful outback where the three-story mansion that he and his brother owned was situated among the plateaus and cliffs. _'We'll investigate some more and see who is involved. After we've gathered what we can, we'll collect Fáelán and go to tell the prince. It is time we paid our respects anyway.'_

He could sense his brother's approval. _'I go to feed. That meeting totally drained me. Oh, I almost forgot. The Morrison guys wanted to get back on our good side, and insisted on giving us a peace offering for all our trouble.'_

'_A bribe more likely…'_

'_That's what I said. I told them we still wouldn't move from our position, but they kept insisting so I decided it didn't really matter. Just a few more trinkets we can add to our collection; anything bad in there and we'll be able to find it. They had their movers put the stuff in your "bedroom".'_

'_That was awfully assertive of them, and of course our housekeeper and groundskeeper just let them in?'_ Quirinus couldn't seem to leave the growl out of his voice. They were going to have to get some new staff.

'_They didn't get through any of our safeguards to the more important parts of the house, but I am slightly surprised they got through the ones that surrounded the property. The despair they had of not completing the job, must have trumped the feelings given by the safeguards. I'm going to take a guess that the Morrison people don't treat their workers very well.'_

'_I shall look into what they brought us. It is almost dawn; be careful, brother.'_ And he meant that in more ways than one. He knew that the darkness was swallowing Calix whole, just as it was doing to him. If it wasn't for his brother's unusual sense of humor, the two of them would have been taken over by the temptation of the kill a long time ago. He needed his brother's quick wit, just like Calix needed his steady hand and firm resolve to keep afloat. But for how long could they keep this up? He knew not to hope for himself, but he would try to stay as long as it took for his brother could find his lifemate. But would even that miracle happen? He tried not to think too hard on the alternative.

Calix's voice broke through his dark thoughts. _'You too, brother. Be careful and do not despair. I shall be home soon.'_

With that, his brother's presence dropped out of his mind and Quirinus once again flew alone. Circling around the house, he scanned the surrounding area. Finding only the usual collection of animal and insect life, he swept onto the railings of one of the balconies of his darkened home, and shifted back into his normal form. Stepping inside, he found himself in one of the many guest rooms. He actually didn't know why they had so many guest rooms since they never had any guests. The Le Creuset home was in an out of the way place, and he and his brother tried their best to keep to themselves. Of course they had set up a reputation in the public arena as ruthless but charming philanthropist playboys, but they're true lives were quite private.

They hardly ever talked to the keepers of their home, and only met with them every so often. When Fáelán ever came to visit, he would share their sleeping chamber deep under the house during the day and none of them were home during the night. So you can image how neglected the guest rooms were.

Covering his face at the amount of dust, Quirinus quickly got rid of it all with a thought before moving to the hall. His vision as excellent in the dark as it was in the light, he quickly moved to the room that was designated his bedchambers. He had never really slept there before, but was only to be used if they had ever needed to entertain human guests. That kind of incident had not come up and so he had no reason to use the room, instead sleeping the sleep of his people in the embrace of the soil, and while Australian soil was nowhere near as fertile as that of their homeland, it served its purpose.

While in the hallway he quickly scanned the house, noting first that the staff that looked after their residence during the day had long gone home. As Calix had stated, the safeguards of their underground chamber were still intact, and there was no semblance of danger he could make out within the house. No signs of life, undead or—

He blinked as he suddenly picked up the mind of a human within the premises…a very scared human.

Was it another cat burglar? They had had a few of those in recent decades. It was nothing that couldn't be easily handled if caught early. However there was something about this human that was making the animal in him more restless than usual.

Approaching stealthily, he could feel the tender heartbeat from here. The beast growled for blood and would not be denied again this night…

His incisors lengthened and his claws extended despite his resistance. Well, what was one more that night? He was famished and this pitiful human was trying to steal from him. He was perfectly within his rights. If the human didn't want to be his prey, he should have stayed out of his home.

Shifting into mist, Quirinus moved under the door and into the room. The darkness within was absolute, the heavy draperies shutting out even the moonlight. This didn't stop him however, as his eyes completely adjusted and began to look over the room's occupants. A briefcase was left upon the unused bed with a sealed envelope on top, a note of some kind most likely. On the ground next to the bed were several statues and vases, each probably worth a year's salary of a normal working man. Four or five antique tomes were stacked next to the artwork, all of them most-likely first editions. Their business associates must have told the Morrison Biotech Co. of the Le Creuset brothers like for ancient art and original literature. It was quite an immense gift, and could have easily swayed the minds of most men; however, while the two brothers would definitely enjoy the gift given to them, it wouldn't in any way change their position.

However, at the moment, Quirinus could care less about any of that. The hunger within him was all-consuming. He quickly found the human hiding behind a huge Ming vase. He could basically taste the blood pumping through the heart, and running through the vulnerable cords of the neck. It was so tantalizing, so mesmerizing…

'_Quirinus!'_

The Carpathian male stopped slightly, his brother's voice sharp in his mind.

'_You cannot do what is forbidden, brother. You cannot kill while feeding. Do not give into the darkness, Quirinus. You must not!'_

Assuming his natural form, Quirinus shook his head trying to stop the frantic beating of his own heart. He struggled hard against the raging beast within him, forcing his claws and fangs to retract in an attempt to restrain the blood thirst of the animal he was becoming. He thanked God that his brother had reached him in time before something irreversible happened. _'I apologize, brother. I was not as strong as I had thought.'_

'_I shall come home forthwith. Send the human away quickly, before temptation drives at you again.'_

Quirinus breathed deeply before walking soundlessly in the human's direction, in the process removing the dark sunglasses from his eyes. For the first time, he looked at the creature as if it was a thinking being and not mindless prey.

He was surprised to see that it was a woman! _A female thief?_ Now there was a first; they hadn't seen many of those. But as he looked closer, he could see that the woman did not dress as a professional thief, nor did she act like she was in that line of work. Scrunched up on the floor, she was dressed in nothing but a few scraps of clothing that barely covered the intimate parts of her body, a strange collar accessory around her throat. Her long hair flowed down her back like an onyx river, shimmering and sinuous despite the lack of light. Her skin was a paler shade of grey than moonlight, almost silver, but seemed fluid and milky in texture despite the large amount of scars that marred it. As he got closer, he breathed in the woman's scent, and it suddenly sent his heart racing again. The smell of a misting waterfall and fresh water lilies permeated from every pore of this woman, and he suddenly wished he could breath in that scent every morning for the rest of his life…

_What the heck was wrong with him?!_ He had never found pleasure in a woman's body before! He must be really out of it tonight.

Shaking his head, he quickly touched the woman's quivering shoulder, knowing instinctively that she was awake and quite scared. He wished he didn't have to send her away half dressed, but if she stayed, the other option would be even worse. He would simply make eye contact with her and use a simple command to tell her to take one of their cars in the garage and drive back to her home. It was all simple enough, or…at least it had been.

The minute his hand touched her, she flinched and turned her head to face him, giving him the first view of her face. Her eyes were the color of tropical ocean waters, a dazzling turquoise color with flecks of gold within them that made them seem as two brilliantly cut jewels shining in the night. _It's the most beautiful color I have ever seen… Wait! How can I see the color of her eyes unless—!_

As soon as he realized he was actually seeing her eyes in color, the colors of every other object in the room began to bombard his own corneas and optical nerves, sending his brain into literal overdrive!

He closed his eyes at once, for not only was he temporarily blinded from the returning of full sight, colors he had completely forgotten about were returning at such a speed it was confusing his center of vision into near upheaval, but his mind and heart were also driven near madness, with emotions that he had only barely remembered through faint memories! The whole experience of sudden sensations drove him to his knees, his body struggling to adjust to the sudden changes in his body.

He suddenly felt the woman's hand lay lightly on his shoulder, as if afraid to touch him, but brave enough to try. Opening his eyes slightly, he could she her stunning azure eyes gazing at him in apprehension and worry. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulder as if molten; her face had slight Asian features but had fairer skin than most Nordics. Feeling his body respond to the beauty of this woman, he slowly reached a hand up in order to touch the lovely, milky flesh of her face. This bravura woman…_his_ woman…the other half of his heart and savior of his soul—his _lifemate_…

Yet, the minute he made as if to touch her, she darted away from him a good two feet, before assuming some form of kneeling posture before him, great fear radiating from her.

Confusion overtook him as he wondered why she had run away. He would never harm her, but then, maybe she didn't know that…

It was then that he noticed she favored her left ankle, and that there were small sighs of pain mixed in with her tiny whimpers. Worry instantly took over and he immediately went to her side and took her tiny ankle gently and ran his fingers lightly over it in examination. She flinched at his touch and looked at him in wonder at how he moved so fast, but he simply smiled inwardly. _We have a lot to learn about each other, my love. But there is no hurry, we have forever…_

He found her ankle was brutally twisted, it was swollen and many bruises created a splotch work of black and blue marking on her skin, which almost looked to be in the shape of human fingerprints. It was in most likelihood broken now from walking on it while it was still injured. Darkness sparked in his eyes, and deep fury began to swell up within him as he realized that this injury had been done by a person's hand. He silently remembered the scars he had briefly seen when he had first looked upon her, and the fury began to rage exponentially out of control…

His hands became rigid as they came up to her shoulders and her charming face. He could see now that many bruises and a long cut across her forehead, decorated her otherwise perfect and almost ethereal visage, some of them so fresh that they seemed as if they were only a few days old.

Gently, he pulled her toward him and lightly ran his tongue across the cut, sealing it easily with the healing agent in his saliva. He felt her tremble at his touch and caressed her face for reassurance, grasping her chin lightly; he tipped her face up gently. Looking into those extraordinary eyes once again almost caused him to lose his train of thought.

However, the rage within him came back as he saw the deep fear within those eyes. This wasn't just the simple kind of fear that every Carpathian male could expect to come from his lifemate when he first approached her. This was an ingrained and deep-seated fear that could have only been born after many years of harm and abuse and being mistreated by others. He slowly began building a picture of what had happened to his lifemate in her time before him, and the thought was doing nothing to quell his building wrath. Quietly he spoke to her, "Who has hurt you, _inamorata_?"

He looked into her sparkling eyes, filled to the brim with confusion and slight terror. When it was obvious she was too scared to talk, he tried another approach. Tenderly, he made contact with her mind trying to scan it for information, but became shocked as his mind practically _bounced_ off of hers! Her mind had a barrier he had never felt the like of before…his mind could read nothing from her own. _How_ _could this be? She is only human…_

There had never been a mortal mind that a Carpathian couldn't overcome. They could even break through the minds of the Jaguar or even Lycan if the need was strong enough. He tried to see if he could find a pathway, a safeguard spell, anything that he could use to gain access to the hidden recesses of her mind.

But there was nothing there, nothing at all. It was like trying to force one's way through a solid steel, titanium-plated wall…

Frustration clouded his own mind as he withdrew. This wasn't possible. It was necessary for Carpathians, especially lifemates, to share minds. How could a mere mortal woman, even a strong psychic, be able to keep her thoughts from him? Could…?

However, as he looked at his amazing but exasperating woman, he realized he didn't even know his beloved's name. Since he couldn't scan her mind—yet—he was going to have to ask the traditional way.

"What shall I call you, _inamorata_? You need not be afraid of me, I shall never harm you."

Suddenly the look in her eyes grew wide, and she looked deeper into his eyes as if trying to read them. He instantly loved that hitherto look, that made her seem like some sort of fae out of a fairy tale; he wished he could look into her eyes for forever and eternity. However, the moment didn't last half as long as that, as she suddenly gasped before quite literally, fainting in his arms!

Cursing silently, he remembered that he was no longer wearing his protective sunglasses. Quickly constructing a pair out of thin air, he fit them over his face, once again shielding his powerful orbs. He was surprised she had gone on this long without succumbing to them. He had foolishly thought that the darkness of the room would hide the affect his eyes would have on her, but he had been wrong. But then…she had looked directly at him, somehow seeing as perfectly in the dark as he could. It was all further evidence that supported a startling conclusion that was beginning to take form in his mind. Yet, he would think on that later. His lifemate's care came before all.

She looked so frail within his arms, and in fact she weighed considerably less than most females should. Her bones were becoming a little too prominent and he was starting to think that the paleness of her skin was not _all_ natural. She didn't look well to him, and he could even feel the slight extra heat radiating off of her. She had a fever. Perhaps later he would get her some human food, but right now she needed to be healed as quickly as possible and sheltered in a soft, clean bed.

Well, that was one thing he would fix right now. Swiftly picking her up in his arms, he paused for a moment to air out the bed linens and the room with his mind, as well as making sure no creatures had snuck in from the outside to harm her, before laying her comfortably on the white silk sheets.

Sitting on the bed by her side, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to leave his own body and enter hers, healing her in the way of his people. He quickly identified the bacteria that were building up in her lungs and respiratory system, as well as the many viruses that were multiplying throughout her system. It didn't take much of his energy to stop their attack and halt their progress. The infection was fighting a losing battle anyway, he gathered as he watched his love's overly-strong white blood cells take out the infection at super speed. She was a fast healer, faster than any mortal that he had encountered.

As he examined the rest of her body, he could see that three of her ribs were broken and that the bone marrow was feverishly trying to knit them back together, the same was happening to her ankle bones as the muscle and joints tried to realign themselves. It looked that while the injuries were trying there best to heal, they continued to get jostled or interrupted by movement and the process had to start all over again. He used his healing energy to speed up the progression, the bones realigning and rejoining faster and with more precision than they had before, her muscles being coaxed back into working order. After a few moments, her fractures were gone, but he left her remarkably efficient cells with the job of strengthening the tender new connections and babying the fragile muscles and joints.

Exiting her body, Quirinus leaned over slightly with exhaustion, but was rewarded handsomely when he saw that she was no longer feverish and that a sense of slight peace came over her. Smiling warmly, he moved a small lock of hair from her face.

_Who are you, my love? Where do you come from, and how did you find your way to me?_

He could only guess as to her story as he seemed to be only able to get the answer from her lips, for even in unconsciousness, the barriers on her mind were just as thick and just as unbreakable as before. From the scraps of clothes she wore, he could estimate that the girl had obviously not wanted to be here of her own free will, and she was no thief, he could tell that much. So why had she been in his home? How had she gotten there in the first place? He doubted she drove…

The mansion where he and his brother resided had always been far away from the urban setting. They, like most Carpathians, enjoyed their space, and they had made sure their home was far enough away from the humans, yet close enough to do what they needed to get done. The wide open outback was the perfect place for them, and the many diverse animals that roamed there accepted them quite well and didn't cause any trouble. Humans however, couldn't really get to their property without some type of sport utility vehicle, and a rifle for protection.

So how did this frail, precious thing, make it all the way to his bedroom, with nothing on by the barest of bare necessities? As it was, to look at her this way, made his body hungry with fiery desire in a way he had never known. It was only the many cruel scars that jumped out at him, as well as the way her body seemed set up for humiliation, that doused it.

Somehow, he knew these weren't her clothes, and that she had been made to wear them, as well as the heavy black leather collar around her neck that reminded him of those, that some malicious human pet owners used on their dogs. It was not something he had physical proof of, but he knew it was just as true as the fact that she had been made for him and him for her. And because of that, he would not allow her to continue to wear such oppressive rags.

Sweeping his hand over her body, her clothes disappeared, only to be just as quickly replaced with rich lacy undergarments, as well as a sleeveless, simple blue silk gown that framed her skillfully and touched the very tips of her dainty feet.

Taking her into his arms once again, he wondered once more what her name was. He vowed he would find out soon enough. He would find out everything, and then he would find the one that had dared to hurt her…

It was natural that his first instinct was to protect her, and make sure that those who had harmed her would pay for it with their lives. His people held woman and children as cherished and precious treasures, and it was practically an innate desire to protect them above all things. This was especially the case with one's own lifemate.

He wanted her close to him always, and every impulse in him was telling him to say the ritual words—the words that would bind her to him for all eternity. Yet, he grimaced as he thought about it. He could do it anytime and he would be perfectly within his rights, but honor would not let him. He wanted the words to have meaning to her, for her to know who he was and what type of life she had been destined for. He was not about to bind her while she lay sick and helpless, unknowing of what was going on. She had yet to say a single word to him, and more than anything he wished to hear her sweet voice for the first time. He could even now hear her breathing easier, which he was thankful for. Her body still smelled just a breathtaking as it had when he first came upon her, a lovely mix of ocean flora and an after-the-rain mist. He couldn't help himself but to pull her even closer and nuzzle her neck slightly, trying to brand that scent into his memory.

Quirinus was astounded as their skin touched, of how sleek her flesh was. Despite the numerous scars and burn marks on her, it was still the softest, most luxurious thing he had ever felt. He came closer to feel more, and noted how strong her pulse beat beneath that flesh. It called to him in a way that was stronger than ever before…it was totally and utterly irresistible. If he could just taste her…just get enough to get a sense of the flavor of her…

Before he had even made a conscious decision, his lengthened fangs plunged into that enticing tissue of her neck and into the artery, his mouth suddenly filled with the bursting taste of her life's essence. His eyes went wide with shock at the taste. It was like no other he had ever tasted before; not even the enriching blood of the ancients could compare! Her blood was spicy sweet with a unique splash of mint and menthol that combined into a delicious mix of burning heat and freezing cold. As the incredible liquid ran down his throat, it quenched his neglected cells like living water to a dying man in the Sahara desert. He could not get enough of this taste; he could not fully savor it. He had no idea how he had lived for almost two millennia and had never tasted sustenance like this? He was instantly addicted and knew that now, no other blood could ever possibly satisfy him in the way that hers did.

The irregular patter of her heart against his chest awoke Quirinus from his pleasant one-track mind trance, and he instantly ran his tongue against the pinpricks on her neck, closing the small openings. He would have left his mark on her, but until he was able to fade and/or erase the intense scarring from off her body, he could wait. He wanted his mark and his mark alone to be the only one on her. Nevertheless, he made a mental note to be careful when he feed from her. Her blood quickly overwhelmed his senses, and he could easily go overboard again just as he did this time. He had not wanted to make an exchange with her yet, the suspicions about her true nature increasingly growing in his mind, but he now had no other choice…

Holding her up easily in one arm, he opened his shirt and extending one of his nails into a lethal-looking claw. Making an opening in his chest, he pressed her soft lips to the bleeding wound. However, before he could give her the compulsion to take what he offered, she latched on of her own accord!

Raising an eyebrow, he almost went to check if she was still unconscious, but could tell by her breathing patterns that she was. His woman was one amazing and surprising female, and he was sure that there would be many more surprises to come.

After she had taken enough to replenish herself he detached her, sealing the wound himself. Sighing, he began to feel a slight tingle as the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon. Hours had passed and he would soon have to go to ground. While he could have slept the sleep of humans to stay by her side, he knew there was a potential danger after having spent so much of his energy to heal her. She could not yet join him in their underground chamber, so she would have to stay in the house. He needed someone during the daylight hours to protect her, but had no one that could be here immediately. Their housekeeper and groundskeeper were no longer an option, he was going to give notice to both of them that they would have to be let go. They had let strangers into his home without his permission, and with his lifemate now with him, that kind of behavior was completely inexcusable.

Laying her back down on the bed, he wrapped the sheets lightly against her body, knowing that the heat in the day could be staggering. While he and his brother could easily control their body temperatures, his lifemate did not have such a talent. Using his mind, he turned on the air-conditioning and sent cooling air circulating throughout the mansion. After going through all the options, he judged that the best choice would be for him to just give her a compulsion command to sleep until he awoke at sundown. While he hadn't bound her to him yet, he now had a blood bond with her and could find her anywhere. He could also use the bond to protect her even while he went to ground.

Testing the mind link, he went into her thoughts and got the impression that she was resting comfortably and at peace. He still could not find a way through the thick barriers she had within her mind, but he was closer to her mind now than he had been. It was only a matter of time before he figured out a way to bring the barricades down and gain access to her thoughts; for now, Quirinus simply spoke the command to her before kissing her forehead lightly and exiting the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Weaving strong safeguards around the room, he quickly scanned the house and surrounding area for any type of harmful presence. No other humans were in the vicinity, not to mention any other stronger beings of other species. The animals were calm and he could only pick up Calix's presence waiting for him downstairs. Finding nothing that would potentially harm her, he left his lifemate to sleep; only taking one more precaution by putting safeguards on the entire third floor itself.

Becoming mist, Quirinus sped through his home to the first floor careful to keep to the shadows and away from any windows. Stopping by the table in the vestibule, he took physical form again and quickly wrote a note to both his house employees, informing them that they would no longer have any need of their services. He even weaved a slight compulsion into the letter making sure that they left the house immediately afterward.

His eyes glanced over his shoulder as he felt his twin's presence behind him. "I'm letting our staff know that they're no longer needed. I think we need to step up the defense around the property as well. We can't have people coming in here, no matter how much fear and despair they may feel."

After a few seconds, when Calix didn't answer, he felt around his twin's mind only to find it surprisingly closed off to his.

Turning around to look at his brother, he almost had to stop himself from gasping. He hadn't seen his brother in color in so many years; the vibrancy caught him off guard. And of course, looking at Calix was like looking into a mirror…

His brother though, was giving him a guarded yet almost afraid look, his body in a crouched stance that said he was ready to move at a moment's notice. His fists were curled tight and he looked as if he was watching the rising sun, waiting for something. When he finally spoke, his voice was still without emotion, yet had a touch of steel on the edge of his tongue. "Why didn't you send the human away, Quirinus? What have you _done_?"

Quirinus blinked at him in question, trying to figure out what his brother was getting at. _What was he talking—?_ He shook his head mentally as he suddenly realized the obvious conclusion Calix had come up with. Of course his brother could tell that he had recently taken blood, and after his recent weakness breakdown and the fact that the human was still in the house, his brother had gone to the most likely assumption, even though it was the one he was most fearful of.

"Fear not Calix, I have not turned. Nor am I likely to in the near future. There is quite a good reason why I couldn't send the female away."

His twin still looked at him hard, knowing very well that vampires were masters of deception.

Quirinus sighed with slight exasperation. "The sun has been up for sometime, brother. If I were even a very masterful one of the undead, I would not be able to keep on my feet in this posture. I am still fully Carpathian, Calix. You may search my mind if you wish."

He felt his brother lightly touch his thoughts through their bond, and he could see his brother's body relax as his fears were assuaged. His twin then looked at him with something akin to curiosity, "Then why _is_ the mortal still here? You should compel her to take one of our vehicles and leave. The temptation is too great right now, Quirinus. And so is the danger now that we have to go to ground."

The older twin shook his head solemnly, "No, she will stay here."

"Quirinus—"

Quietly, he sent his brother visions of what he was now seeing, of the renewed emotions that were raging throughout his body. He had been afraid to tell his brother outright, having the ridiculous fear that if he said it out loud, everything that he experienced would have turned out to be a dream.

Calix became quiet for a moment, before looking at his brother with a slight smile on his lips. Deciding to respond back on their mind rapport rather than aloud, he stated, _'I am happy for you, brother. How did she happen to come here?'_

'_I actually don't know much about her. Her mind has strong shields that I have never seen the like of, and she seems to be afraid of me.'_

'_Who wouldn't be? Even to full grown males of our species, both you and I were looked upon as intimidating. What is my sister's name? And who will protect her in the day until she can be converted?'_

'_She has not spoken to me, so I do not know her name. I will protect her with what strength I have, and place her under a compulsion to sleep until sundown. I have added many safeguards, but until I can find someone trustworthy to look after her, it is all I can do.'_

The sun was beginning to become difficult to resist, and the two brothers simultaneously shifted to mist and seeped down into their underground chamber. The soil in this part of Australia blanched in comparison to that of more temperate and damp areas, but it covered the most basic of needs and allowed them a cool, dark place to sleep hidden and protected during the times when the sun was up and they were at their most vulnerable.

Calix quickly shifted the earth to make a sleeping place for himself. He looked over to his brother who seemed lost in thought. _'Do not fear for your lifemate. She is under my protection as well as yours. If she calls I can hear her from your mind. On the next rising, I will make some inquiries and find a suitable bodyguard for her. You can convert her soon and then she can join you here.'_

Quirinus nodded before also moving the earth, making a small fissure of his own. He had thought about making a bed for her down here, above the ground but still close to him. However, the air in the chamber was not properly ventilated because of the harsh acrid soil and stone, and while this didn't affect them, it would be harmful for his human lifemate. And that was another thing that bothered him…

'_It might be a while before I can convert her, Calix.'_

The man looked at him questioningly, _'You know it is necessary for the both of you, Quirinus. You must make her understand that.'_

'_It is not because of that that I am afraid. It is that I fear what will happen to her because of the conversion.'_

Calix lowered himself into soil, watching from the corner of his eye as his twin did the same. _'The conversion process has been done several times with success. Our brother, Lucian's lifemate survived the conversion and lives happily with him. So has Mikhail's lifemate, as well as Falcon's; the only condition is that the woman has to be psychic, and she could not be your lifemate otherwise.'_

He moved the soil to cover him, blocking out everything and leaving him in total darkness and complete silence. He was about to shut down his heart and lungs as was the way of their people, when his brother answered him.

'_That way of conversion it true for humans. However, I fear that my lifemate is in fact—not human. She has not told me outright, but there is definitely mixed blood there.'_

'_I have heard the conversion also works on the other races as well. The De La Cruz brothers, one of their lifemates is Jaguar and another is Lycan and both have survived the conversion process and are now full Carpathian, if retaining some of their inner beast as well.' _

'_I know this also, and I know both races well and could easily smell the blood of either if it was in her veins…but that's just it, Calix. I couldn't. My lifemate is not human nor Carpathian, not Jaguar or Lycan… I am at a loss to say, that I have __**never**__ seen a race like hers before! And that is what I fear most…'

* * *

  
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**A/N: Hi! This is Irene Sharda, and this is my first attempt at a dark series fanfic, however, I hope everyone enjoy's it and that you please review! It would really help, thanks!**_  
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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Thank you to babygurl1944, Masamune'sSong, and hichigomate for their reviews and making me so happy! Thank you for your support!

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**Chapter 3**

Isis awoke to the sun's caress on her eyelids, her body strangely comfortable and warm. She felt like she was sleeping on a bed of cotton balls, the warm sun and soft breezes embracing her. This was a nice dream…

Her eyes flew open and her senses began to react to what was around her. She wasn't asleep and this wasn't a dream, she realized with slight confusion and alarm. She looked around her surroundings slowly, noting with tremendous relief that she was alone. Sitting up, she saw that she was in a huge hand-carved bed with the softest sheets and fluffiest, most enormous pillows she had ever laid eyes on. Terror jolted through her as she realized that she was lying in her new master's bed!

Jumping out of the tangling sheets, she noticed two things. One, her abdomen and ankle felt much better. And two, she was wearing perhaps the most beautiful dress she had ever worn in her young life. The dress was only a plain sleeveless one-piece that touched her feet and slightly trailed behind her, made of soft shiny material that was dyed a beautiful shade of blue, but it was still magnificent to her. Looking under the dress she could see that her master had completely redressed her. Had he thought her previous clothes unbecoming of a slave in his household?

Thinking on the subject of her new master, brought back the tumultuous flashbacks from her first meeting with him the night before. Sitting on the floor, she remembered her first thoughts when she had looked up at him leaning over her in inspection. The first word that appeared in her head when she saw him was: immense. Even though the room had been in virtually total darkness, she could see him with ease. She had never had any trouble seeing in the dark, and it seemed neither did he.

The man was definitely tall, a good 6'4, his black shirt, jeans, and boots blended him in almost completely with his surroundings. He had the physique that the models on the television which she had only seen briefly, could have only dreamed of. Wide hefty shoulders and sculpted muscles that could barely be restrained by the clothes he wore, his slender hips and well-defined legs completed the picture. His skin was flawless; his milky pale complexion had a natural golden tan that gave him the look as if he had already worked many days in the sun before he was even born. His hair was the most brilliant, vibrant crimson she had ever laid eyes on! It was quite long and he wore it pulled back in a simple ponytail, looking like a living river of blood on his snowy white skin. His smile was dazzling and his voice with its strange mix of accents, sent shivers down her back. Nevertheless, his gleaming white teeth and the silkiness of his voice, along with his entire demeanor in fact, seemed to scream of a restrained predator. That behind this beautiful façade was something that was very deadly and very dangerous, and that worried her.

Isis had seen many men in her life, and most if not all of them, she wanted to completely forget about. On the other hand, she had to admit her new master was definitely the most handsome man she had ever seen. But of all his attractive features, she had to say that his _eyes _were the most defining feature…

They were ancient eyes, filled with both untold wonder and untold sadness. They seemed to say everything, and yet nothing at all in only a glance; she had seen none like them before. They were not one single color, but seemed to shift between the entire color spectrum at will, always changing as if they held a life of their own and it was the most natural thing in the world. She knew that one could get easily lost in eyes like those, those enchanted orbs could swallow a person whole and never give them back. However, to her, they only seemed to send unfamiliar feelings of inner fire and electricity running down her back. She desired to look into those eyes again, and she didn't think she would mind the punishment she would get for breaking the rules when it came to slave and master etiquette.

Speaking of which, she had to go to the bathroom badly once again. She guessed that the small door on the side of the room was the private one attached to her new master's bedroom. Walking quietly, she opened the door but saw the vacant hallway, no one at all in sight. Sighing, she closed the door and headed over carefully. She didn't want to start off on his bad side by disobeying right off the bat, but she had to go now! Thank goodness that Le Creuset so far, was not the "irons and restraints" type…

Doing what needed to be done and cleaning up afterward as to not make her presence known there, she actually got a chance to look at the bathroom and wasn't surprised to see that it was quite spacious. It held all the essentials one should have, but also included a huge marble Jacuzzi as well as a multi-directional shower. Looking at herself in the massive mirror above the sink, she could see that while some of her bruises were still covered by the vast amount of makeup she wore, others like the one on her ankle still showed.

The shower called to her, and although she knew that she would be in quite a lot of trouble if she used his shower without asking, she knew that her masters had all been even keener about her hygiene. Coming to a decision, she slipped carefully out of the beautiful dress and folded it, carefully laying it on the floor before removing her bra and panties with the exact same fragility. As she stepped into the shower, she was surprised to see the water start automatically, send warm water spraying all over her body.

Isis didn't get to have many real showers, and none of them had been warm. The new sensation made her jump slightly, but the water soon calmed her and she quickly began to enjoy it. She loved water and always had. It had a habit of invigorating her and making her feel alive and strong. Though she was experiencing a new sense of delight at the simple feel of hot water on her skin, the slight sting of her wounds brought her back to reality. Grabbing a bar of soap she began to wash the heavy makeup from her body.

Many of her masters, in order to hide scars or blemishes on a slave's skin from guests, authorities, or potential buyers, they would have them use flesh-colored bandages and concealing foundation makeup. She had been made to do just that to hide the recent wounds and the past scars from the several floggings she had endured, but with the water from the shower, the makeup had washed off and the many bandages were becoming ineffectual.

Taking off the wet bandages one by one she washed her body, ignoring the sting of her still healing injuries. She washed her hair as well with the soap and then just simply let the water sooth her sore flesh. She would have some explaining to do to her new owner as to why she was more damaged than she was last night. She knew that most new masters didn't like to see that they had been duped and sometimes even got violent, usually taking it out on the slave. Hopefully, Le Creuset wouldn't get too mad.

As all the suds and soap washed away the layers of dirt and cosmetics, she wondered if she was clean enough for Le Creuset's tastes. There was a strange want to please him, and it was more than because she wanted things to go as smoothly as possible between them. His presence confused her to the utmost, because while she was quite frightened of him and what he could do to her, he also sent her soul into a bizarre frenzy that she had never felt the like of before. Every man who had looked upon her sent a feeling of pure revulsion and disgust running through her; they had all wanted something from her and usually got it with interest. However, Le Creuset, the man with hair the color of blood and eyes that seemed to come from the gods, sent new feelings rushing over her. She didn't know what to do with these new sensations, and they frightened her beyond any of her other recent apprehensions.

She reached over and turned off the water, even though she wished she could just stay there all day and not have to face her new owner. The thought of Le Creuset as her master, brought back a recollection of the events of yesterday morning, when she had awoken to a rough shake by her previous owner…

* * *

Her body ached all over and she was barely awake, but that didn't stop the other slaves and servants from doing as their master bid. She was quickly unshackled and yanked up from the ground. They roughly and callously moved her out of the room and through the halls into another room, one full of concrete and several open showers. She gasped with anguish every time they accidentally or carelessly hit her body.

One person threw her to the tile floor, while another blasted her with a high pressure hose. She yelped and held back a scream as the cold water bombarded her harshly. After a minute or two, the water ceased and she was pulled up from the ground and roughly toweled off by aides. They quickly dressed her in sparse, barely covering garments and then one person began yelling at another in some form of communication, as both men and women scrambled around her trying to get things done. She was yanked up again and a man quickly placed bandages on her most recent and/or her most horrendous wounds and scars, while a woman went behind him and covered her body with a generous supply of make-up, making her quickly but effectively, a semi-equal tone. When she finally got a look at herself later, she would have to admit that they had all done a good job at concealing her marred skin. She knew as they worked what was going on, even though none of them looked her in the eye, she knew these servants of her master's were just doing their job: Preparing one of his belongings to be transported to its newest location…

When everything was done, and they had hid all they could, she was taken, now fully awake, back to her master's room. Thrown to the floor, they closed the door on her tousled form and left. Her owner was sitting at his table eating and had not even spared her a glance when she was brought back in. She immediately assumed her correct knelling posture before him.

After a few minutes of silence he looked towards her briefly. "Stand."

She immediately got to her feet, despite the pain working its way like a javelin through her ankle. She made sure to keep her eyes on the ground as he told her to turn around slowly, his roving eyes examining her body. When she had turned a full 360 degrees, he told her to stop. Sitting back down he said noncommittally, "I guess you'll do. You must be hungry, Icy. I don't think I fed you yesterday, did I?"

Isis knew better than to answer the question. She simply stood there, keeping her level of vision low.

He beckoned her towards him, which she answered immediately, sinking to her knees by his side at the table. Taking her chin in his hand roughly, he captured her lips wholly and totally, claiming every part of her mouth with ease. Letting go, he reached into his drawer and withdrew a short leather strip. Strapping it around her throat, he pulled tight letting the edges bite into her skin, and the metal buckle that was used to secure it, pinched at her neck cruelly. The front of the black leather collar had a metal loop with a leash attached to it…the end of the leash was in her owner's hand. He pulled it up slightly, causing her to look into his clear, dark eyes…

"This was a little going away present I got for you, Icy. We won't be seeing each other again for a while, but don't worry your pretty little head about that. We'll be together again, I can promise you that. I have a certain little business venture that you're going to help me with. Once it's done, I'll make sure you are returned to my home—and my bed—where you belong."

He held out a half-eaten crust of bread to her, which she took gratefully, trying not to look too famished as she wolfed it down. He of course noticed, but indicated nothing.

"The men you'll be serving for a time are named Le Creuset, and they are both really big thorns in my side and the sides of the people I work for. Le Creuset…stupid name if you ask me, but hey, to each man their own—and these are very important, very _**prominent**_ men. If you fail me in this, I promise you, you will regret it, Icy."

He pulled her leash hard, dragging her even closer to him. "You are to seduce these men, make them tell you their secrets. If they will not tell you, make sure they are so addicted to you that they cannot think straight. I want their minds filled with nothing but you. It should prove easy enough since you Icy, were born to seduce…"

She grimaced within herself, not understanding why this was true. Every man for the past thirteen years had looked at her with lust in their eyes, and dark desires in their minds. She seemed to be able to "seduce" men so easily, as her masters had put it, but she had no idea how. She wasn't beautiful or graceful or anything; how come they all looked at her like that? She wished that someone could tell her, so she could turn whatever it was—off.

Her master gave her another crust of bread, followed by half a strip of overdone bacon. Isis took them both with surprise. Her master had been so angry with her the other night, but today he was feeding her much more than she was used to. Why? Did this have something to do with her leaving? She wondered how Le Creuset would feed her. She would love to one day be able to stand and eat without kneeling or get a crick in her neck from looking down all the time, but as expected, that almost never happened. And if Le Creuset was as bad as her master had made him seem, then she could forget that hope right now. And hadn't he said "men" as in more than one? The situation was getting worse and worse, to serve more than one new master was a worse case scenario. She hoped they didn't like doing things together all the time. Threesomes and such were very humiliating and very painful; to have to please more than one man all at the same time, while still trying to keep her sanity in the midst of it, could drive her off the brink. Speaking of which, her master, who had pushed the empty plate away, was giving her that look again. She inwardly sighed and waited for him to make the first move.

She didn't have to wait long as his hand that had been combing through her hair, began stroking her neck and fondling her breasts. He grinned as he felt the tremor of anxiety run through her. Her constant state of fear was always an aphrodisiac to him. It was near impossible to find a woman who could please you so completely and let you do whatever you wanted to do to her, without one word of resistance or backtalk. A woman whose very purpose was just to please him…it made him hard just thinking about it. "I should take you right now, but that would mess up your nice make-up job and we wouldn't want you to be late on your first day with the French twits. So…we'll have to improvise. Why don't you show me once more, how well you appreciate me and that you'll miss me? Show me how much you love me…how much you're going to _crave_ pleasing me again with that sweet mouth of yours."

He pulled her towards his bulging crotch, and she had to stop herself from throwing up the food she just ate. She wished that he would just go from the room, and leave her to her loneliness; let her lie there in the blackness of the thoughts that clashed within her mind. For even now, her mental attention was almost entirely taken up by the idea of the faceless, mysterious Le Creuset. It wouldn't be long now, when she would finally meet this man who was somehow strangely consumed her mind, and would soon be the one holding her life in the palm of his hand. It was strange how a man she had never met, had so much power over her, and held her existence, her freedom, and her futile but strangely unwavering quest for contentment, captive to do with as he will. But then, this was always the way wasn't it? Those three things had been passed from hand, to hand, to hand, and had never once touched her own, and they probably never would…

She mentally sighed as she began to slowly undo his pants, her master's thick arousal immediately emerged, pulsing and anxious with the wanting of attention.

Isis immediately closed off her mind as she began to lick and stroke the length of him with her tongue, knowing by now how he liked things done. It was routine, and she had learned his wants well, just as she had every master that came before him, and would with every one that came after him. Putting her lips around his sensitive tip, she heard his moans and felt his hand grab her hair and push her violently closer, making her take more of him in. His voice was guttural as he spoke, but his words stung all the same. "That's it…good girl."

She stopped herself from gagging and simply wrapped her lips over her teeth, using her tongue to swirl around the head of her owner's cock and along the underside. He began to thrust into her mouth now, as she sucked hard trying to make him come as soon as possible. Inwardly, she was relieved knowing that this was half over, and he could leave her alone, at least for a little while.

A minute or two more of her ministrations and she could tell he was about to release. Opening her lips to let him go before he came inside her mouth as was their custom, she was surprised when the hold on her head didn't loosen, and instead got tighter!

Great fear washed over her as she realized what her master was doing; that he wasn't going to let go of her. _But why?_ He usually let her go and was perfectly satisfied with just seeing her body dripping with his seed, as if marking her like a dog marks his territory. Yet, in all the time she had been with him, he had never made her _consume_ the white sticky substance that she couldn't wait to get off her skin. Only one of her master's had made her do that, and she had answered by involuntarily throwing up the entire vile mixture. That little stunt had earned her a beating and a whole night with her master's soldiers. That night was even too horrible for her nightmares, and just the thought made her want to scream to the heavens to strike her dead. She hadn't been able to sit or even move properly for two whole weeks after that night, and her everyday sessions with her master didn't help either.

Just the memory of that incident sent chills all over her body as Isis suddenly felt her current master burst inside of her mouth, the sour, salty taste invading her sensing and instantly making her bile rise within her. Trying to take control of herself, she reasoned that maybe she could hold it in her mouth, until she could find a bathroom and a toilet…

Her owner came out of her and watched his frail bed slave covertly struggle with what he had just forced her to take. A smirk came to his face as he held her head up in an iron grip and looked into her frightened blue eyes. His voice was husky, but held steel-like authority as he spoke, "_Swallow_ it, you little whore."

Her silent face flinched with terror, and he watched her carefully placed mask begin to crack. He had never disillusioned himself; he knew that she hated doing this, but was terrified of his reaction should she refuse, as she had right to be. However, this time it wasn't just simple pleasure he was looking for. He was teaching her a lesson that she would remember during this little absence they would have from each other. He was proving a point, he was proving that she was his property and that he could do what he liked with her when he liked. He had molded this little Egyptian goddess into the perfect woman, one that didn't fight back and did exactly what he told her to do.

She was his and his alone.

Isis realized she couldn't get away from him this time. She was once more defeated and would have to take the consequences of whatever punishment her actions would grant her. With the quickest moment she could maneuver, she gulped down the man's revolting, gooey seed, feeling it burn down her throat and immediately begin to churn her stomach.

Her master watched her face twist as her stomach turned, the smirk never leaving his lips. He released her of her leash, unclipping it, and she immediately turned away from him, heaving onto the ground everything that had been in her stomach the last day and a half or so. Once she had finished, and her stomach had felt mildly better, she wiped her mouth and waited for her owner to strike her. This time, she had not only messed up his floor, but had also insulted him by vomiting up everything he had just ordered her to swallow. She was certain he was furious with her once again.

Nonetheless, when the beating and kicking didn't come, she quickly moved to kneel before him apologetically. "I'm apologize, Master. It is my fault. I shall learn to better control my stomach."

He looked down at her languidly, zipping himself back up and rising from the table. He stifled a yarn as he walked around her and the mess on the floor. "That's alright Isis. It's just a shame that you threw up your meal for today as well. Maybe Le Creuset will feed you, who knows? He might just take pity on you and give you something tomorrow, or maybe the next day…"

She shuddered at the thought and was suddenly angry at herself; she had fallen for her master's false benevolence once again. She had thought he was giving her extra food because she was going away, but it wasn't so. He had only wanted her to eat so much, so that she would feel an even bigger sense of loss when she had to vomit it all up. Why didn't she ever learn her lesson, and remember that kindheartedness was only an ideal for her dreams? In real life, there was no such thing…

Her master put on his jacket and shoes, and then looked over at her still kneeling figure. Walking over, he pulled her small frame from off the ground and forced her arms around his waist as if she didn't want him to leave her, and was grabbing on for one last embrace. Isis simply laid there against him, her body exhausted both mentally and physically.

He looked down at her and smiled. "I have to go to work now Icy. By the time I get back, you'll be in your new home already. You gonna miss me?"

The words had been addressed to her like it was a question, but she knew from the malice the overshadowed his voice, it was more like a command. Sighing within herself once again, she latched onto his waist with a little more vigor, rubbing her head against the man's damp crotch. "Yes, Master, I will miss you very much."

He pets her hair, and she smiles at the "reward" even though she hates the feel of his hand on her. He asks her another question, "What will you miss, Icy?"

She blinked in surprise but quickly came up with something, "I will miss you're kindness, Master. How good you are to me…"

He laughed slightly, "Don't lie to me, Isis. I was never good to you. I have broken you with pain and suffering, because that's what a slave like you needs. So are you saying you need me? You need that pain and suffering?"

She was surprised he had used her real name, which told her that he wasn't playing around this time. She knew he wanted an answer and not a crappy one either. His eyes were watching her intently now and she answers the only way she can, the only way she knows how. "Yes Master, I need it. I need you."

"Why?"

She pulled herself closer against him, searching her mind for suitable answers to all of these unusual questions. "Because I'm your slave—your whore, and I-I love it . . . I _want_ the humiliation, the abuse, the pain . . . I need…I need…"

She was stuck for more to say to him, but her master suddenly pulled her up off her knees and made her look at him in the face. There was fire in his eyes. "I had hoped that after all this time; you would have learned to lie better than that."

Striking her face, he threw her to the ground. "I'm going to call my secretary and tell her that I will be a little bit late."

He turned from her and opened the door. "When I come back in a few minutes, we'll see just how much you need me and how much you love being my whore. While you're mine, I'm going to make total use of your tight little body, like that of a female dog in heat."

She quavered on the floor, telling herself how stupid she was for trying to attempt to trick her master. _Why was she always doing all these stupid things instead of just keeping her big mouth shut?_

As her owner slipped out into the hallway, he spoke to her matter-of-factly. "And Icy, if you try to escape out the window again, not even the importance of this deal will save you from my wrath. Just to let you know…and also, clean up that mess you made on my floor, would you?"

He nodded to the vomit that lay on the ground, and eager to dispel his anger, Isis got up quickly to go to the bathroom and get some paper towels. But the minute she reached the door, his voice once again stopped her. "No Icy."

She turned back around and faced him, careful to keep looking toward the ground. "Yes, Master?"

His eyes sparkled heartlessly, but his voice and smile were still as nonchalant as before. "I want you to clean it up……with that lying tongue of yours."

Terror and nausea returned to her body, shaking her to her core once again, her soul crying tears of shame and pain. _What had she done to deserve this? What had she done to deserve ever have been born at all…?_

He continued as if he had not seen the agony that surfaced on her face. "I want you to have licked up every bit of it by the time I come back. Is that clear, Icy?"

The man watched her stand there for a minute before answering quietly, "Y-yes, Master."

He watched with eyes of conquest as the little vixen slowly got on her hands and knees and moved toward the sour and sordid bile. When he was sure that his order was going to be obeyed, he closed the door and left her. He had broken her again, and it felt so good… Those Le Creuset brothers should be thanking him, since he had done most of their work for them. Yet…they didn't know that this particular gift they were going to receive would prove to be their undoing. Icy was a born temptress and needed a stern taskmaster to keep her in line. The two business tycoons were going to be too busy with their new "present", that they would hardly be able to pay attention to their company anymore. If his sources were right, the men hardly gave any interest to their business anyway rather letting it run itself. Tossing Icy into the mix, should be able to shake things up even more. It was exactly what he and his employers were hoping for.

However, a dark look came over his mind as he thought of his woman being touched by another. He knew it must be done, but that didn't mean he had to like it. But she was going to be his again. Once all this mess was over, he was going to take back his property and break her all over again, make sure she knew who her true one and only master was. Remind her that he owned her now and forever, and it didn't matter how far she went, or who she was with. She would always be his…

* * *

Isis, now dry and fully clothed in the clothes she had been given, walked over to the window in Le Creuset's bedroom. Looking around her with hesitation; she pulled on the heavy drapes and was astounded by how much sun burst through the windows. Blinking for a bit, she glanced through the glass and took a step back, gasping in awe at what she saw before her.

A sea of land stretched before her as far as the eye could see, and every type of topography seemed to be here, collectively at the mansion's doorstep. Cliffs and canyons, grasslands and plateaus, even ravines and small forestlands were all part of the magnificent surroundings to which this house had been built. The sun sparkled on the surface of the sparkling river, which cut through the land about half a mile from the house. She placed a hand on the window, the flowing warm waters calling to her just as they had when she had first heard them on her way here.

After she had finished "cleaning up", her former owner had come back as he had promised, and took her once again into his bed. Such brutality, torture and lust had come from him, such as she had never known to ever come from a single man. Putting a hand to her head, she tried to push back the painful images from her mind: of him forcing her legs open to give him full access, of his searing lips on her bruised skin, and of how he groaned out her name as he assaulted her rougher, deeper and harder. She was eternally grateful that once he was through with her, the vomit that she re-ingested and had forced herself to keep down, along with her heavy emotional stress, had caused her to lose consciousness.

When she had awakened once again, her body was re-clothed and fresh make-up applied. She was thankfully alone, and blessed darkness surrounded her. She had quickly found herself nailed shut in a wooden crate, on a moving vehicle. Splinters scrapped and punctured her skin, it became oppressively hot and stuffy, air in very short supply except through some very small spaces between the wood planks, but even in all that, she was grateful that she was finally leaving her master and the cold, horrible room that was her prison.

True, that she had just left one prison to enter another one, carried on the backs of men in a wooden crate like a shipment of iced trout, before being dumped and left in a unfamiliar bedroom for hours and hours alone, but for the first time in four years—the amount of time she had belonged to her former owner—she breathed a single breath of fresh air and expressed a single feeling of hope, though a dark hope it might be.

She had stayed there kneeling on the ground as time went by, wondering and in suspense for the time when her new master would come, yet dreading it as well. She had been too afraid to look at the room, much less the outside terrain, and had too many butterflies within her stomach to fall asleep. Her stomach still ached from the bile she had been made to swallow, and she had to calm her abdomen again at the thought of it. Heat, pain, and tiredness consumed her, but she pushed these things away as well. Her mind was too preoccupied to be consumed with such trivial matters.

_What would Le Creuset be like? What would he look like? Would he approve of her? Would he even care? And where the heck was he all this time?_ Many questions ran through her head one after another, her curiosity for some reason had been whetted more keenly than it had been with any other master she had had.

_Why do I feel this way? I haven't even met him, and these feelings I am getting…they overpower everything else that I have ever felt. I don't understand this feeling I have about meeting him, that no matter how cruel he will be, no matter how brutal he would act towards me, or how much degradation and torture he will submit me to, I still want to meet him, to see him and know his voice. I want to know, who this Le Creuset is…_

She had arrived during twilight, and as time passed she was aware somehow unconsciously, that it was now the wee hours of the morning. And just when she had begun to think that the man would never come, she had suddenly felt his footsteps in the dark. She had been surprised that she had not heard the door open, and she was even more surprised at the deliberate pattern of his feet, as if the man was in a trance. She stayed on her knees, the shivering and apprehension in her body increasing as the man came closer to her. She somehow knew, even though it was pitch black in the room, that the man could see just as well in the dark as she could. It was like he belonged in the dark and to the night and that he was like a ravenous wolf on the prowl, waiting to devour her as prey. She had been quite scared, and like a spooked antelope, was ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

However, something changed when he had laid his hand on her shoulder. She had felt a spark that had made her look up at him, no matter what the rules were. And when he had fallen to the ground, she felt she had to touch him, to help him, not caring that it was slave taboo. The last thing she remembered, was fainting under the intensity of those eyes. Those eyes that looked as if they were saying a million words, and were trying to compel you to say them too, she couldn't begin to comprehend eyes like those.

She had been so afraid of him, so afraid of what he would do when he had reached out to touch her. She knew he was about to punish her for laying a hand on her, and had quickly cringed before him, silently begging for him to forgive her. Yet when he had taken her into his arms and spoke to her, and when he had licked her wounds gently somehow healing them, she had been too stunned to do anything but lie still in his strong embrace. When he had asked her, her name, and had promised that he wouldn't harm her, she had been amazed at how sincere he sounded. She knew that he was lying of course; she had had quite a few masters who had promised to never harm her, only to go back on that promise in a day or so when they finally got used to her being around, and fully realized that she was theirs to command. However, of all of them, she had to admit that he was the best liar she had ever met. Maybe it was those accursed eyes that had been able to so enthrall her that she had fainted, that gave him such an ability to deceive others. She was sure that in no more than a week's time, this man would turn out to be just like all the others. She was a slave, and he was her master, that was all there was to it, and all there ever would be. He could treat her how he saw fit, he could entrap her as much as he wished, and no matter how sad it made her heart, she was his to do with as he wanted. Isis laughed slightly as she remembered how Xyra had put it: "A dog on the streets has more rights, than a human slave in her master's household does. Look at it this way; in their eyes, we're lower than a pet, but higher than a cockroach."

Thoughts of her magical friend dampened her restless spirit. She had not heard a word about Xyra since her escape that night, and she felt her heart go out to the young woman. She hardly ever knew the location of the homes of her owners, (mostly because she couldn't read a map) and so she didn't know where she was or where she had been. _Had Xyra come back for me, only to find out I am no longer there? She's most likely been caught by now, I wonder what he will do to her…please God, if there is one out there, don't let her die. She was the only friend I've ever had, and she is not the hideous monster that I am. Please let her live…_

Stepping away from the window and the magnificent view, she sat down on floor and sighed, wondering what she was to do till her master's return. She was afraid to leave the room, not yet knowing the rules of the house. Most of her owners didn't like their bed slaves to be roaming their home, and so she had been kept locked in bedroom after bedroom for most of her life after she reached her preteens. She had been fortunate to have some who let her roam a little, as long as she stayed close and answered their summons. Hopefully, if she was lucky, Le Creuset would be one of those.

Quickly bored, she stood up and began to look around her new master's quarters in more detail. Stepping over the other gifts that had been given to Le Creuset along with herself, she glanced over the many trappings around the room that looked neither male nor female, but was definitely ancient. She recognized several artifacts as priceless, and from many different civilizations. One of her masters had been into art collecting, and he had talked about his different pieces to her over and over again that she now knew what to look for when she saw it. That master had been particularly nicer to her than most. He had not summoned her to his bed often, and had not been very cross with her. It was only when she would break one of his precious artifacts, or he had been angry over being conned into buying a façade, or when she had not expressed the correct opinion about a work of art, that the man had beaten her.

But even he had not had as many authentic relics as she saw inside this room. Roman, Greek, Chinese, Native American, Mayan…many different cultures all came together in this room in a type of menagerie of art that was neither gaudy nor cluttered. Somehow, all the different cultures melded together as one rather than clash into each other, and all of them were genuine as if they had simply stepped out of one time and had landed instantly in this one. Looking at a Qin Dynasty set of jade knives, she laid a hesitative hand on one of the blades. _Well, he definitely has a taste for beautiful art; that much is for sure. However, this room doesn't look lived in at all. It's as if it is only for show, not for sleep…_

After learning the layout of the room, she quickly made up the bed and then cleaned her fingerprints from off the window, before finally airing out all the dusty drapes and letting in the sun, making sure nothing was out of place. Finding nothing else to do and her curiosity oddly kicking back in again, she slowly went to the door to the bedroom, and before she could convince herself not to, she grabbed the handle and opened the door!

Looking stealthily outside, she was relieved to find an empty hallway. Taking a deep breath, she took a step outside the room, than another, than another. Why was she doing this? Her new master would be furious with her. He would think that she was trying to escape him. He would thrash her for sure. But for some reason, she could not turn away; she wanted to see the rest of this new place that was to be her home. It seemed as if it was calling to her…

Her body strangely tingled as she walked down the carpeted halls, her bare feet soft and noiseless as she tip-toed around the mansion. She was amazed that she found the house almost completely bare of people. There wasn't anyone around, and no sound at all was made. It had been clear earlier that her master (or master_s_) wasn't home, but she had thought she would have seen some staff, some servants, some other slaves like herself, anyone at all! But the place seemed entirely deserted, not a person heard or in sight. _This place is furnished lavishly, but there is no one here to enjoy it…is this how my master lives his life? _

A slight hope came to her, if she was her master's only slave, she would probably have other household duties and she wouldn't just have to serve as his bed slave. She would have to cook and clean and do laundry as well, which would give her some freedom to roam the house, instead of being cooped up in that room all day. However, her hope was dashed once again as she went down the stairs to the first landing and began to hear voices—arguing voices.

The stairs descended onto a balcony that overlooked a breathtaking black marble entrance hall and a grand arched doorway, bordered by two great Romanesque columns. The balcony had a black wrought iron railing, which she inched closer to as she looked down into the foyer. Two strange people stood next to each other arguing, one holding a letter in his hand. Isis tried to remain unseen as she listened in.

The taller of the two, a man (the one who held the letter), talked to the shorter woman, "I still say he ain't got no right to just fire us like that! Isn't he s'posed to give us six weeks notice or somethin'?"

The shorter, stubbier woman answered back. "Those two are rich, Jasper. You know the rich do what they want."

The taller, hawk-like man—Jasper—responded back angrily. "Horatia, we could have taken anythin' we wanted from those bloody snobs, 'alf the stuff in here is worth three fortunes. They're never here during the day, and 'ardly here at night. They wouldn't have missed nothin'. We been loyal all this time, and they got the nerve to do this to us?!"

Horatia hunched her shoulders, "I don't know about those two, Jasper. The Le Creuset brothers don't miss anything. I think they can see absolutely everything behind those mirrored sunglasses of theirs. I told you not to let those moving people in here."

"I'm the gardener, You're their 'ousekeeper. It was you who decided who comes and who goes and they seemed to be anxious to get in here and then leave. So if anyone should be blamed it should be you!" He snapped at her accusingly.

"It was you who told me to open the door so they would stop their constant knocking!" she bit back angrily.

Horatia looked around anxiously, "I say let's cut our losses and get out of here, Jasper. This place is now giving me the creeps. They said they'd pay us our entire salary for the month. Can't we leave it at that?"

Isis listened to the two go back and forth and got the gist of what was going on. So there were two Le Creusets. Well, serving the two brothers shouldn't be too bad. If what the two had said about her owners was true, she wouldn't be seeing much of either of them, and that was always a good thing. However, the one who had those ethereal eyes…she maybe, just a little, would liked to have seen him again soon. If just to look into those magical orbs once more…

As her mind wandered, she didn't notice that she had begun to push against a display table, a large vase of sunflowers sitting atop it. It wasn't until she heard the resounding crash in horror, that she realized what she had done. And not only that, but her presence had been announced to the only other two beings in the house!

There was a sound of feet running up the stairs, and before she knew it, Isis found herself in the presence of the two disgruntled employees she had just been observing. "Who are ya? And what'cha doin' here?" Jasper yelled at her, Horatia behind him silently watching her with a hand on her hip in impatience and haughtiness.

Looking down at the spilled flowers and broken vase, Isis backed up against the wall completely petrified. She cursed herself for thinking to do such a stupid thing as to leave her master's room in the first place! Now she had not only broken one of her owner's antiques, but she had also let his servants see what she had done, which they would surely report back to their employers.

Clutching her shoulders, she edged to the right keeping her eyes on the angry man and woman. If she moved fast enough, she might be able to make a break for it. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, I'm n-not sup-posed to be here. Please, d-don't tell him—"

Before she could even finish her half-cocked explanation, Jasper grabbed her arm tightly, knowing she was about to run. "Oh no ya don't, ya little sneak thief! You was here trying to steal from the Le Creusets were ya?"

Isis knew she was in trouble, and so didn't bother telling the man that he had just suggested stealing from them himself, when he was talking to his female partner downstairs. She tried to pull away, but was no match for his iron grip and superior upper-body strength.

Horatia came up behind Jasper and looked at Isis in apparent condescension, "I'm not sure she's a thief, Jasper. I mean, she don't look like no thief, she looks more like a harlot. What if she's just a woman one of them brought home?"

Jasper turned to her, dragging Isis around with his movements. "You know just as well as I do, that those two 'aven't brought anyone 'ere, ever! They're 'ardly 'ere themselves. She's a thief, and she can 'elp us get our jobs back."

He pulled her close and sneered in her face, his breath was obviously thick with alcohol. Isis turned her head away to avoid his gaze, wondering why she was always getting herself into these situations. He continued talking about her, as if she wasn't there. "If we show this little Sheila to the brothers, they could look past wot we did yesterday, and cut us a break."

Horatia was still not convinced, "But I've been thinking Jasper—"

Jasper grabbed the woman's blouse with his other hand, "You've 'been thinkin''?! Now what have I told ya about that thinkin' Horatia? Ya'll give yerself an 'eadache."

The former housekeeper pushed the man away in disgust, "Get your hands off me! If you were my husband, I'd—"

"I'd rather roast my 'ead on the barby than marry an empty-'eaded woman like you!" He retorted.

The minute he had taken hold of Horatia, Jasper's grip on Isis loosened and she jumped at the chance. Wrenching her arm from his hold, she jumped around them and took off down the stairs as fast as she could go. The house seemed big; maybe she could find a place to hide until either of her masters came home…

However, she was only four or five feet away from the marble hall, when her head suddenly slammed down on the stairs, someone having grabbed her hair from behind!

Hissing in pain, her body was suddenly dragged down the rest of the way, Jasper's hand still securely on her head. The sleeve of her dress caught on the wrought iron banister and easily tore as she was pulled forward without a thought. Once in the center of the entrance hall, she was thrown down on the ground, the marble cold against her skin, but her body was hot as her heart continued to race. Breathing raggedly, she knew she was caught, and she could only look up in fear at her captors and what they would do to her. She had had a few run-ins with servants over the years, who wanted to secretly try out their master's toy, and they never ended well. And then there were some servants who were jealous of her position as the master's personal pet, and had been brutal and very cruel to her because of it. If only they had known, that she would have given anything to switch places with them…

Horatia's beady black eyes looked at her in simple disdain as she came from behind her co-worker, but Jasper was seething. He grabbed the female slave again and held her up by her neck in a choking grip. "You little—"

The shorter woman tapped the guy's arm, "Let's just get out of here, Jasper. She's not worth it. What if she really is a 'guest'?"

"Then she wouldn't be scared stiff now, would she? She's a simple thief, and she just proved it. I mean, would a piece o' alley trash just try to run like that?"

Suddenly the housekeeper got a malicious look on her face, and a smile that would shame a piranha. She looked at Isis with a happily-vindictive, knowing look, before turning back to Jasper. "Why not let her _**prove**_ her trade? If she isn't a thief, then she should be willing to show you her _true_ talents, hmm?"

The man looked at the stout housekeeper for a time, trying to understand her statement, when everything suddenly clicked into place. He too looked at Isis with cruelty, malevolence, and something that was not in Horatia's eyes—a look of wanting desire.

Isis had seen that look in so many ways, in so many men; she could recognize it right away for what it was. Her body still ached horribly from the results of such a look in her former master yesterday morning, and she didn't know if her body was able to go through it all again so soon, and she most certainly didn't want it to be with this man, who didn't even have any authority over her. However, she had to admit, that had never stopped other men in the past. No one cared how she felt; they only took what they thought they should have: end of story.

Yet, that didn't mean she didn't fight back. The men that owned her, she could do nothing about; neither did she have a choice when her master ordered her to please another. But with this man, at this moment, she was neither ordered nor compelled. And so she struggled in Jasper's grip as he dragged her to a couch and forced her down. She could smell the smothering odor of alcohol everywhere on him and see the cold frenzy in his eyes as he tried to restrain her.

Horatia simply sat down on the opposite couch and watched the scene, mindlessly picking up some pistachios from a bowl on the coffee table, and breaking off their shells in her hands before popping them into her mouth, as if watching her co-worker rape a totally random girl was as entertaining as the soap operas she usually watched at this time. If the little slut was really a prostitute and not a thief, than let her prove it. If she really was a thief, than this little "lesson" would teach her not to continue such a trade in the future. Horatia had always been a prudent woman, and she believed that harshest lessons were often the best ones.

Isis quickly found that she could not overpower the stronger male who was pushing down on her. She tried futilely to keep pushing up on his chest as he tried to pin her down with his body. Ripping at the torn sleeve of her dress, the man held her down forcefully, his fingertips bruising her skin. She cried out as the man wrenched her arms above her head, stretching the muscles beyond their natural limits. _Not again—I can't take it…_

"Come on ya feisty little whore. It's not as if ya 'aven't done it before." He growled at her as he tore her clothing further, revealing more of her body.

Isis closed her eyes tightly as her strength gave out, her body not having the energy to resist his advances. Tears fell silently down her face, unheeded by the man forcing his way with her, or by the woman who was enjoying the show.

As she felt him reach under her ruined dress and try to tear away her frail underwear, she stopped struggling and began to regress into herself, as was her way of mental protection. However, this time, she couldn't think of any pleasant dreams to fill the black void within. She could only feel the great loneliness that resided inside of her, the hatred of what she had become. _Mother…_Okaa-san_, why did you give birth to me and then leave me to face this Hell? Why didn't you take me with you when you went to heaven? Why did you leave me here without your love and protection? Why, _Okaa-san_? _

A picture of her mother's smiling face appeared in her mind. Her long black hair and her petite little figure that made her look so delicate, as if she would blow away in the wind. Her brown eyes that twinkled with happiness every time they looked upon her, they seemed to scream out her mother's great love every chance they could get. Without her mother, she would have never known what love was. She had never met her real father who had died before her birth, and her step-father had treated her as her masters did: as a tool to be used for personal gain.

It was a fact that the only reason that Isis had not taken her own life in all these years of servitude, was because she remembered that she was her mother's treasure, her mother's only living reminder of the love that she and first husband, Isis' father, had shared together. Her mother had always called her "_kamichama_" or "_hime-chan_", cute girly names that spoke of her child as a little goddess or tiny princess. She had always said that Isis was her world, and that she would never leave her. That if she ever needed her, all Isis had to do was call.

When her _Okaa-san_ had succumb to the deadly strain of virus, Isis was overdrawn with grief, which didn't let up even when her step-father almost immediately sold her off on the black market to pay for some gambling debts. She had felt betrayed by her mother who had left her alone in this merciless world, and had tried to forget about her. Finding herself unable, she finally began to draw on her memories of the happy times with her mother for strength. But in all that time, over all those years, she had _never_, attempted to call her mother…

She didn't know why it was this moment, with this insignificant man, that caused her resolve to break so. Maybe it was the fact that her last master had broken down so much of her resistance, so much of her spirit, that she could no longer protect her own mind anymore. Perhaps it was because she was slowly and simply dying inside, and this was her last scramble for survival. People said it was the other way around; that the body could not live without out the spirit, but she had come to believe differently. Her spirit had begun to die long ago, and who knew the how or why, but life will struggle to continue, even if the spirit is no longer willing. She was simply tired of fighting, and whatever the reason why, Isis had nothing else to lose. And so, it was at this moment in time—that she called to her.

Isis opened her mouth to scream for help, but found herself suddenly unable. Her energy was totally spent, and she was as helpless as a baby who had cried out all its tears. She couldn't even whisper; her voice just wouldn't obey! _Oh, it's hopeless!_ It was foolish of her to hope for someone to come to her rescue; she was no princess, and there was definitely no handsome prince on a white horse waiting to come save her. So why did she even try?

And it was in that single moment of weakness and self-doubt, that she decided that she couldn't give up. It was a foolish hope, but it was all she had left, and she had somehow foolishly inherited her parents' determination. If she couldn't call her mother in so much as words, she would use music! Her mother had said that if Isis ever needed something and couldn't speak or find the right words to say, she should do so through music, a language understood by all living creatures…and that's what she would use now.

In her mind a song formed. It was a spontaneous song that seemed to somehow be able to express her want for aid, her want for help of some kind. The song had no words, only a melody of different harmonious sounds strung together to send a particular message, similar to the ways that dolphins or whales communicated. She had never heard the song before in her life, yet she in some way, knew what every pitch meant, the meaning of every crescendo and every tone, was as clear to her as running water.

As she felt the vile man's hand caress her skin before grabbing her own and forcing her to touch him; renewed urgency caused her to song to grow louder, until it seemed to fill her entire consciousness. _If there is anyone out there, anyone at all—will you please hear me? Help me… _

'_I have heard your song, and I feel your distress, little one. But I need you to open your eyes in order for me to help you.'_

She gasped sharply, as she realized the sudden voice that spoke within her head wasn't her own. There was something oddly familiar about the masculine voice that sounded like iced velvet. It seemed to instantly wrap around her and fill her with wonder so that she practically forgot the situation she was in.

The voice had not forgotten however, as it spoke again, this time with more urgency and authority. _'Open your eyes now!'_

Isis knew that tone. She had just been issued a command, and her body had been conditioned and trained to obey such commands automatically. Quickly she opened her eyes and looked directly at the man who was assaulting her.

A feeling of darkness and death came over her, like a sudden winter's blast on a summer's day. The presence that was with her in her mind was more than angry. Even "enraged" and "infuriated" seemed like too tame of words to describe the feelings she was getting from the voice's aura. She had never felt fury like this before…it was almost alive and wriggling like a living creature. Isis would never forget this feeling. It scared her thoroughly, yet on some level—it excited her too…

* * *

Horatia, who was totally enjoying seeing the little dancing girl get the ride of her life, was the first to spot the change. The prostitute had been trying to escape, eventually closing her eyes and crying for all the good it would do her, when but a minute or two later, she had opened them again, and this time there was a strange spark there that hadn't been there before.

No more than a second after her flashy little orbs had opened, Jasper's arm where he had held her hand to stroke his hard length, suddenly burst into flame! Letting go of the girl like she was diseased, the man began yelling and screaming, waving his arm in the air in a vain attempt to put the fire out. But the flames paid no heed and instead traveled up his arm and onto his chest and back, licking and devouring his flesh, causing him to screech and curse even louder!

Horatia jumped up from her seat and went to try to help her comrade, when she suddenly felt the ebony-haired girl's eyes on her. Suddenly, the priggish woman found her throat has suddenly closed, her windpipe crushed as if by a vice-like hand! Staggering from the lack of air, she looked directly at the strange female, who only sat up from her position on the sofa and continue to gaze at her former tormentors in shock.

_She's a witch! A freakin' witch!_ Horatia's last rational thought flitted through her mind, before she staggered toward the door to try to get away from the force that was killing her. Little did she know, that it was already much too late.

The post-housekeeper fell to the ground right outside the front door. She had been dead before she hit, and was now only food for whatever animal decided to come along. It was the circle of life, and nature as always, would take its course…

Horatia's death barely registered to Isis as she crouched on the sofa watching the voice's work. And she knew it was the voice that was at work here. The voice was a magical being like Xyra, and it had answered her call and had come to protect her. She smiled a little despite the macabre death that was happening in front of her. All this time, and her mother had still answered her call, by sending the voice to give her aid.

The fire had totally consumed Jasper, and he no longer screamed or yelled or even stood on his own two feet. He lay now, a flaming pile that was beginning to lose its human features, on the cold dark marble. Isis could only look at the man in silence, knowing he was dead, but not knowing what to do except to watch the mesmerizing flames. She sat there like that, perfectly still until the flames suddenly extinguished themselves, only leaving a pile of ashes in their wake.

The presence within her head had been with her the entire time and even still exuded out small waves of anger, but none of them were directed to her when it again spoke. _'Are you alright, _inamorata_? Did he hurt you?'_

_**Inamorata…**_

The minute the strange foreign word was said, everything seemed to fall into place. Isis now knew where she had heard that voice before, but this time, with the realization came the feeling of dread and desolation. That voice, it belonged to…the presence in her mind, was none other than the man from last night! The man who had eyes like a crystal prism and hair the color of blood—Le Creuset, her master!

Tears spilled from her eyes once again as she realized all that her master had heard and seen. What had started off as a dream come true, had quickly turned into a nightmare. She realized that maybe all that anger **had** been aimed at her after all, and that her master was another jealous type. He would say that she had seduced the gardener and that he would make her see that she was nobody else's. He had killed his servants, but he certainly had something more torturous in mind for her!

Jumping up from the sofa and hardly giving a glance to Jasper's ashes or to the half opened door that shielded Horatia's corpse, she raced across the floor and back up the stairs, through the pathways and back the way she came, fear giving her the burst of energy required. Even through her clouded eyes, she could instantly find her way, having a photographic image of the paths she had taken within her mind.

Le Creuset spoke in her head once again, this time the worry that lined his voice was obvious. _'Why do you not answer me, _ma chérie_? Are you alright? Are you hurt?!'_

Isis put her hands to her ears to try to block his voice out. Why did he have to speak to her that way? Why couldn't he just come out from whatever shadow he was lurking in, and talk to her directly? Did he enjoy terrorizing his slaves with his strange powers? She was now in uncharted water, never once having a master who could do what Le Creuset could. How would he use those powers on her…?

Entering her master's bedroom, she ran inside before slamming the door closed behind her and collapsing on the floor. Curling up in a favored fetal position, she waited in trepidation for her master to enter, the sobs raging her throat and the tears never-ending. Why did this pain never end? That was always the question wasn't it—why?

Soon, Isis could cry no more, and her throat could not make a sound. Exhaustion took over her entirely and she could no longer move. She just simply laid there, her eyelids beginning to flutter closed from pure emotional exhaustion. The lack of food or water in her system didn't help, and neither did the waning rays from the sun as they stretched through the window and over her body. As the panic of her mind finally gave way to her tiredness, she found that her last thought before she fell fast asleep, was not of her brittle future, or of her fearsome and mysterious new master…but that she actually would have loved to have seen the sun settle over the horizon…just once…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Quirinus, for once in his life, cursed the weaknesses of his body. He could control the earth at will, shapeshift into any animal he wished, and had four times the strength of any male human, but he couldn't get up and go to the aid of his lifemate when she needed him! The frustration was overwhelming, and he could only count the minutes until he would be able to rise from his slumber and go to her side.

How his lifemate had resisted the sleep compulsion he had given her, he had no idea. But he suspected that it was the same reason that she could simply walk through the safeguards he had placed, or to the fact that the compulsions had not worked on Jasper and Horatia. Somehow, her body chemistry canceled out safeguards and compulsions, no matter who they were aimed at. If his disturbing hypothesis was true, then his love was in more danger than he thought. With the safeguards down and in a house all alone, she was a wide open target for more than just human enemies…

He had come awake from his sleep when a song he had never heard the like of before, began to fill his head. It had no words, but was only a chain of melodies strung together by the most angelic voice to ever be heard in his long lifetime or even before. The song was so sad, yet somehow pleading; a tantalizing female voice beseeching him for assistance. The melody had mesmerized him, totally taking over his mind until he could practically feel the woman's cries of pain and tears of sorrow.

To his own shame, it wasn't until the song reached a crescendo of exigency, that he finally realized that there was only one female who the song could belong to, and that that female was in trouble and calling out for him. When he had finally been able to gaze out of his lifemate's eyes, a rage like he had never felt before seemed to consume him. The beast within him called for blood, and it was only the bonds of the earth and sun that had kept him from obeying it. The sight of his one-time groundskeeper forcing his lifemate down and putting his hands all over her, making her touch him and attempting to defile her—and in _his_ home! It made his blood boil to the very edge of his limit! The death the man had received was pleasant in comparison to what Quirinus would have done to him if he had been there in the flesh—which was somewhere along the lines of peeling the man's skin off one strip at a time and then filling the wounds with boiling oil until the man could live no longer. His holier-than-thou housekeeper had been just a guilty, simply watching in gratification as his woman was being raped. He had not made her death as gruesome, but that was only because of his limit in energy.

His jealousy and ire were unimaginable, and he didn't think he had ever felt this angry before. Even when he was a fledgling and he had still had his emotions, never had he been so sanguineous. He had been furious with the both of them, but even more so…he was furious with himself. He had failed at his first and foremost duty, which was to keep his lifemate secure, safe and protected at all times. He had been slow to answer his lifemate's call and the result had almost been catastrophic. He should have been more careful! He had known of his two servants black hearts when he and Calix had hired them, and that the two were not entirely trustworthy. But when it had been just him and his brother, they had felt no imminent threat from the two, and as long as they did their jobs correctly there had been no need to worry. The arrival of his lifemate changed all that. He had thought the safeguards and good common sense would have been enough, but now she was suffering the consequences of his thoughtlessness!

Quirinus cursed himself in anger as his lifemate refused to respond to his call. He could feel her fear and her anguish, as she shut him totally out of her mind. Frustratingly, he could not hear her inner thoughts which were still protected by that confounded barrier; he could only read those on the very surface that were her immediate thoughts, or those that she projected out strongly like when she had called out to him. _Why hasn't she answered me? What if she's been badly injured? What if she's unconscious and needs my help? _He almost screamed in aggravation as all the questions ran through his mind, the knowledge that he could no nothing in his current situation burning him to the bone!

In his own sleeping place, Calix had also awakened to his brother's lifemate's call, and had reinforced his brother's energy with his own as Quirinus moved to protect the distressed female. However, he wisely kept his thoughts to himself as he felt the disturbing emotions roll off his twin now like waves, knowing that he anxiously wished to go to her. However, Calix was worried for his brother's soul, and what these new emotions would do to his psyche. He had not yet preformed the binding ritual and could therefore still turn vampire. Until his twin did so, Calix would still have to keep a sharp, but silent eye on him. His brother was too close to having the wonderful, miraculous life that he deserved, and he would be damned if he let Quirinus mess it all up now…

* * *

A half an hour later, the golden sun set on the "Land Down Under", the day ending and ushering in the time of twilight. At that exact second, Quirinus burst from the ground and instantly turned into mist, shifting through the cracks of the hidden door of their chamber and through the halls and tunnels of his home. He had constantly been scanning for her, making sure she had not left the house. As far as he could sense, she had stayed in the room he had first left her in, but with all the other unexpected things that happened today he couldn't be sure of anything right now! No, until he held her physically in his arms, he would not release the air that seemed to be trapped in his lungs.

Stopping at the bedroom door, not wishing to frighten his beloved any further than she had already been today, by reforming himself in front of her quite literally out of thin air! She wasn't ready for that yet. The two of them hadn't even been formally introduced; he had never heard her voice (even in her thoughts!), and could only pick up on her raw emotional state through what little response her mind was giving to his calls. There had been little communication between them, and she seemed to be avoiding the touch of his mind ever since her horrifying experience earlier that day. He couldn't blame her for shunning him, and given his recent failure to protect her, he was going to have to work extra hard to gain her trust and to beg her forgiveness. Even if he had to fall on his knees before her and grovel at her feet! He would do whatever was necessary in order to just get her to talk to him…

However, now that he was so close to her, he suddenly felt his boldness leave him! Heaving a sigh and trying to gather his courage, Quirinus hesitated a second before knocking. _Imagine, one of the five greatest and most ancient warriors the Carpathian race has ever known—and I'm scared to death of facing a petite, slip of a female, who would only be an infant by Carpathian standards. What is wrong with me?_

His twin, who had been tuned in to his thoughts, responded. _'You've found the other half of your soul, __**that's**__ what's wrong. Slightly disgusting if you ask me.'_

Quirinus smiled at Calix's statement, _'I __didn't__ ask you.'_

'_And it's a darn shame too. Don't worry; I'll clean up the "mess" you left in the entrance hall, just make sure that you get her name this time!'_

His twin's presence disappeared before he could respond, leaving him alone once again. Shaking his head in amusement at his brother's indomitable sense of humor, Quirinus, now oddly encouraged, knocked on the door. Waiting for a response but receiving none, he pushed the door in slightly, holding his breath for what would happen next.

What he saw at that moment, made his heart leap with both joy and alarm. On the floor next to his bed, lying curled up in ball fast asleep…was his precious _inamorata_. Concern consuming him, he rushed to her side and very gently pried her from out of her fetal position, laying her body out flat on the ground. His eyes quickly but thoroughly examined her sleeping form, looking for any injuries or wounds that the bastard might have caused her. The clothes that he had created for her were now cruelly torn to shreds. She smelled horribly of alcohol and that man's scent, bruises on her arms and legs were clear evidence of the violence she had been subjected too. The sight slashed at his heart, reminding him most severely, that her pain was his fault, and that he had neglected his duty.

Sighing once again, Quirinus stroked the onyx-haired woman's tearstained cheek, felling her warm skin under her fingers. "I'm so sorry _ma chèrie_, please forgive your lifemate's incompetence. I swear before you now, that I shall never allow anyone to treat you that way again. I know you cannot hear me, and even if you did you have no reason to believe me, but know that my word is my bond, and that one day I shall prove myself worthy of one as pure and beautiful as you."

Picking her up from the floor, he placed her tenderly on the bed, before heading over to the bathroom to draw a soothing, healing bath for her in the Jacuzzi. While the warm bubbling water quickly filled the tub, he waved his hand over the candles that were scattered about, lighting them and illuminating the room as the natural sunlight rapidly waned. Dispersing healing herbs and minerals, as well as dried rose petals into the water, he checked the temperature to make sure it was not too hot or too cold, before turning the faucet off and just leaving it to bubble and pitch. Taking out some towels for her, he then set about making her a new set of clothes, her old ones quite useless. He was going to have to take her out shopping for a whole new wardrobe very soon, because even though he didn't mind having to make her clothes himself, he wanted to let her pick out her own. He knew little about females, but he knew that they often had a different taste in clothes than the men they married…

Once he was done with that, he wrote a small note to her in case she woke up while he wasn't there, leaving it within the folds of the new clothes.

_**Beloved,**_

_**I know that you must be very confused and scared after all that's happened to you. Know that nothing will harm you further, but if danger should strike you during my absence, just call for me and I will come to you. The house is yours to roam and you may go anywhere you like, all that I ask is that you stay in the house for your own safety. I will explain more about this and many other things when I return, which will be sooner than you think. **_

_**Already yours,**_

_**Quirinus Le Creuset**_

Going back into the bedroom, he was relieved to see that his beloved had still not awakened, before lifting her into his arms and taking her to the healing waters that awaited her. Propping her up to remove her tattered clothing, Quirinus noticed for the first time that there were quite a few more wounds and scars on her body than he had first thought! He furrowed his brow as he stared at the many bruises along her arms and legs, some fresh from today, and some looked as if they had been there for a couple of days or more. Scratches and scars laced her skin, and they only seemed to get worse as he pulled away more cloth. Still healing ligature marks on her wrists, ankles, and even her neck marred her flesh. He even noticed a deep burn mark that resembled two entwining snakes, branded onto her right shoulder. _What had caused such a painful-looking scar?_ There only one distinct possibility, but it made Quirinus so livid, that he didn't even want to talk about it. When he looked to her bare back, he gasped sharply at the angry gouges and welts that weaved and intersected there, again some still fresh and healing, while others seemed to have been from some years ago.

There had been a chance that the other cuts and bruises were accidents; maybe his lifemate was a very clumsy person, or maybe she had a rough line of work. But seeing these scars and wounds froze his heart solid. These were not accidental or self-inflicted—these were deliberate. He had been alive for many centuries, and had seen many things: he knew what these particular marks were made by—the cruel and brutal curling lash of a merciless whip.

_Who could have done such a thing to you, my little one?_ He felt his anger resurface once again, visions of his bare hands snapping the neck of whoever had been stupid enough to hurt her. Unconsciously, his claws began to lengthen, as well as his fangs. His eyes began to glaze over red, as all his emotions over the day began to collect into one big disturbing mess. He needed to destroy something…anything.

'_Quirinus, let go of your anger and release your lifemate. You will get your chance to defend her honor, but for now you have not fed, nor have you completed the ritual with her. You are in a dangerous position if you let your want for vengeance get the best of you. You must feed, and then after that you can return to her. Do you understand me, brother?'_

Calix's voice cut through his fuming thoughts, and his eyes instantly cleared. He suddenly realized that his grip on his lifemate's wrist had tightened, and he was close to breaking it! Releasing her immediately, he breathed in several breaths of air in an effort to calm himself. _'Thank you, Callistus. I don't know what came over me. I shall join you shortly. Place the most lethal safeguards you can around this place until our return; the ones we left here didn't seem to work well.'_

His brother wasn't put off easily, _'I'll let you call me that name this once, but I'm counting to ten and you'd had better be out here before I get to six, Quirinus.'_

Calix left him once again, and Quirinus had to thank God that his brother still had that knack for eavesdropping on his thoughts without permission. The beast within him had been raging once again against its restraints, and he would have never forgiven himself if he had harmed the fragile female. He had to leave her once more, and given his suspicions about her, he didn't know if the safeguards would do any good, but he had to try.

He removed the rest of her clothes quickly, without looking too closely at her (he knew that if he looked to close, his desire for her might overwrite his reason once again); he slipped her body slowly into the waiting bath water. She moaned desirously as the water touched her skin, and he had to stop for a minute as he listened to its almost musical depth and tone. Smiling, he sat her up and leaned her against a wall, making sure she wouldn't drown, before affectionately pushing a strand of dark black hair from out of her face. Her sleeping form was so exquisite, the skin of her face even as bruised and cut as it was, was as creamy and fine as porcelain china. Her long black eyelashes of those slightly slanted eyes seemed to hold back, the celestial gems that was held prisoner behind those soft eyelids. Her lips were full but tiny, like that of a rosebud, and so perfect. He wanted to crush that soft, lustrous river of hair under his investigating hands, and look into those sea-green eyes as if he were looking into the pool of life. He wanted to capture those lips and reveal the secrets they hid, to taste her and claim her as his own. And then, before moving on to the rest of her body, he would drink up that sweet nectar that was her blood, savoring the delicacy that was mint and spice all mixed into one…

'_Quirinus…'_

The red-headed Carpathian hunter shook the thoughts from his head, as his twin once again called him in impatience and slight warning. Sighing in regret, he resigned himself to just placing a short, loving kiss on his lady's forehead. _I shall be back as soon as I can, my love. We have much to talk about. Stay safe for me._

He then turned and went back into the bedroom. Opening a nearby window he let the night air caress his skin. Through everything that had happened today, he grinned a little at the knowledge that for once in his life, everything felt really good. He was going out into his element once again, but this time he knew that there was going to be someone waiting for him when he returned home. Someone with soft hands and lips that begged to be touched, someone who laughed and smiled with a soul made of light—a woman who completed him. Yes, things were quite good indeed…

Shifting into the familiar form of a crimson wedge-tailed eagle, he flew through the open window and off into the evening sky. He was soon joined by another eagle identical to himself in every way, except that this one had black tips on its huge wings.

Calix looked over at him as they flew, his eyes like Quirinus': instead of being the normal golden brown of eagles, kept changing colors in an unending cycle. If any human, or any Carpathian for that matter, looked into those eyes—they would be immediately hypnotized and subject to that twin's every command. They kept those eyes in whatever form they took, and they could not control the power that they exuded. Through the years they did what they could to prevent anyone from looking into their eyes directly and catching their gaze. Originally they had used blindfolds, which had been totally annoying but perfected all their other senses that they used to "see" around them. Eventually they had used masks and hooded cloaks, and when sunglasses were invented, it made life for the two twins quite more bearable. They still had to be very careful as to what they said or thought; in the strange case that someone did come in contact directly with their eyes. Any thought or word that they spoke would be an instant command to those they had under their spell, and only till they were snapped out of it by the brother who had made contact, could they be released from their compelling hold. These mesmerizing eyes were both their blessing and their curse. These "limitless" eyes had made them legendary, unbeatable fighters in battle, but caused them to be inadvertently avoided by their own people. It was probably for this reason that they had been drawn to the Daratrazanoff twins.

Where their well-known power had lain in their eyes, Gabriel and Lucian's strength lied in their voices. Both of them could command armies with their voice, and no compulsion compared. The two sets of twins had primarily the same powers; the only difference was in how they exhibited it. Having all been born around the same time, with the same mantle of power put upon them that caused them to be shunned by others, the four of them as fledglings, had quickly become at first rivals, then allies, and then friends. The tight-knit they had with each other, along with their similar strength in power, caused them to be impervious to each other's abilities. And you don't know what a relief it was, to just have _someone_ to whom you could just be yourself with. Within their little camaraderie, they didn't have to be legendary, they didn't have to be unbeatable—the four of them could just be themselves. They watched each other's backs in battle, all of them honor-bound to protect their people and their prince.

They had been about twenty-two years of age, when Fáelán was born. He was the youngest of their little group, and all four had (and still do) think of him as their little brother. Born with a formidable but equally devastating ability within the touch of his hands, but orphaned at a very young age, Fáelán lived on his own, raising himself in the forests of their homeland. They had discovered him one day, when they had been tussling together and had caught him watching their antics with interest. Fáelán, though having just met them, was strangely unaffected by the voices of the Daratrazanoff twins, as well as the eyes of the Le Creusets. And through an unforeseen accident, the four of them found out that for some unknown reason, they were unaffected by his touch. Because of this, they all took to Fáelán immediately and did all in their power to get him to trust them. Fáelán had no idea why they did what they did, but the four potent fledglings were the first to actually want to befriend him. The four of them taught the younger fledgling how to be a hunter, and soon he was able to go toe-to-toe with any of them. Fáelán's power caused him to be greatly avoided by their kind, even though this same ability gave him great fortitude as a warrior and hunter, eventually earning him the name: "Silent Slayer". The five of them grew up side by side, training together, fighting in battles together, and giving their all for their prince, people, and homeland. It wasn't until they were sent out into the world some centuries ago, that they had been separated to any great extent.

Vlad was wise, knowing that Fáelán would need companionship if he was to keep from drawing back into the solitary lifestyle that he still slightly frequented, and so he was sent into a territory that was close to that of two of his best friends. He and Calix still treated the ancient hunter as protective older brothers did with their younger sibling, and constantly watched over him from a distance to make sure the loner Carpathian didn't sink too far into the darkness.

As all these past thoughts went through his head, Calix spoke through to his thoughts. _'I too am worried for him. Somewhere out there is a woman for him, and if you, Lucian, and Gabriel can be joined to your lifemates, after so many years, then there is hope for Fáelán. We just have to keep him from going totally into the darkness until then.'_

Quirinus screeched his agreement, _'Don't give up hope for yourself either, little brother. I will be here for you until that time, I promise you that._'

There was a period of silence that followed, as Calix seemed to have drawn back slightly, before answering once again. _'That is…not necessary Quirinus. You have a lifemate now, and she is your priority.'_

'_You are still my twin and my brother, Calix. I will not give up on you, so don't give up on yourself.'_

After a pause, his sibling quickly changed the subject, _'Why do you think that your lifemate was not affected by your compulsion and awakened early?'_

Quirinus did not miss this sudden shift in topic, but he let it slide this time, _'Well, you know those mind barriers I spoke to you about? Well, I think she is somehow, unknowingly able to somehow affect mental manipulation. Not only did she disobey the compulsion I gave her, which is unheard of, but also the compulsions that I buried within the letter and the safeguards outside, none of them worked!'_

'_I did notice that, and I must also add that when I tried to weave more safeguards, they for some nameless reason, unraveled almost immediately after I finished them. In the end I had to simply talk to the beasts that roam our lands, to the wolves and the jackals, and tell them to protect the house stalwartly, not to let a person pass the perimeter. I know it is rudimentary, but it was all I could do until I study this phenomenon more. Do you think she has mage blood? That she can somehow unravel safeguards without knowing it?'_

'_I did not sense any, but if she is mage, then she is much more powerful than any I have seen. But next time, until we can figure this out, I shall stay home with her and you shall have to provide for me until then. One thing I am thankful for is that her barriers block anyone or anything from picking up on her psychic mind. That should lower her chances for becoming the sought after prey of the undead. Speaking of which, can you handle patrol of the country on your own?'_

Calix almost laughed, _'You underestimate me, brother. Even if the population of vampires here increased tenfold, I would be quite fine without you.'_

'_That's what I'm afraid of Calix. I want to keep you in one piece for your lifemate someday.'_

Silence overcame and the conversation was suddenly dropped. The younger of the Le Creuset twins receded back into his own mind, unable to endure the sensations of hope and optimism that exuded from his brother. Calix was truly happy for his sibling, and he didn't wish to disillusion Quirinus. However, he knew very well that there was no hope for him of finding his lifemate, and that it would soon be his turn to face the dawn, for he would never leave the burden of his destruction to Quirinus by succumbing to the beast within him. Yes, once his twin had gotten settled and this strange business with Morrison Biotech was accomplished, he would journey back to the mountains of the homeland and end his existence.

His brother would be angry with him, but he would get over it with some help from his mate. He would soon realize that it had been Calix's only choice. His lifemate would never come. For he had long ago, felt his lifemate die…

* * *

Isis' eyes fluttered open, the smell of roses and lilac flooding her senses. Moving to stretch her arms, she suddenly realized that she wasn't in the same place she had been when she had fallen asleep! The events that had happened that midmorning, her attack by Jasper, and Le Creuset coming to her rescue with his strange powers, all came rushing back into her mind. Snapping her eyes open, she saw that she was sitting naked within a huge bubbling Jacuzzi that she remembered seeing earlier that day, rose petals dancing upon the sweet smelling water. She was alone once again, twisted, round, straight, and all other kind of shaped candles, were lit around the spacious bathroom. What was she doing in here, and where had her master gone, as he was obviously the one responsible?

Placing a hand on the railing, she pulled herself halfway out of the deliciously warm water to get a better look around. Other than the bath and the candles, nothing much else had changed. She correctly assumed that it was now night and that perhaps her master had gone down to have dinner. Sinking back down, she sighed happily at the first bath she had had in who knew how long. She had never known anything could feel this good. The shower this morning had felt wonderful, but this was wonderful!

Knowing that she might be left alone at least for a time, she took the opportunity to dunk beneath the surface of the water and submerge her entire body, feeling one with the life-giving liquid. Swimming beneath the surface, she swirled around in bliss, letting the warm jetted bubbles dance along her skin. She loved being in the water like this! It gave her strange unknown feeling that she had rarely experienced—joy. As the water eased her aching muscles and healing wounds, it also helped to ease the fears that had been taking over her mind earlier. Her master must not be too mad at her, if he had given her such a reward as this. She had never gotten anything this nice from any of her other masters, even when she wasn't a bed slave. Maybe the Le Creusets weren't as bad as they was rumored to be…_or maybe this another trick or trap they had set for her…_it wouldn't be the first time.

Expressing a sigh, her good mood dampened, she broke back through the surface and squeezed out her long hair. Reaching for a nearby new bar of lavender and lily scented soap, she washed herself, not knowing when she would get this chance again, and she wanted to get all the unfamiliar and unwanted smells from off her skin. Submerging herself once again, letting the water flow over her body in its little miniscule currents, she then stepped from out of the tub. Trying not to get too much water on the floor, she was glad for the white fluffy towels that had been put out for her use. Drying herself off, she wrapped one large towel around her, and then another smaller one around her wet hair. As she then worked to get the bathroom back in clean order, she almost past by the treasures that were hanging up on the door!

There, hanging on a simple hanger, was another set of underwear as well as a new dress. This new one however was even more splendid than the last, this time the satin material was the color of ruby red wine, with black velvet ribbon laced down the sides to end in two bold black bows. She beamed at the sight of it, and instantly removed her towels in order to try on the new set of clothes. To her surprise, as she went to reach for it a small envelope fell out. Picking it up and slipping out the sheet of paper, she could only guess that it was a note for her from her master. Moaning in sadness and slight frustration, she just looked at the symbols unable to make anything out on the paper. This didn't surprise her very much, since she didn't know how to read very well, especially whatever language this was written in. Before she had been sold off as a slave, she had been in her second year of schooling and so she could read and write rudimentary Japanese, but that was it. No one ever took time to teach her further and she didn't have the time or resources to teach herself, so with all the other languages she had encountered she was completely illiterate. However, reading was different than speaking for Isis. She had discovered that she was very good with spoken languages, able to fluently speak any language after hearing it only one or two times.

Hopefully, the note from her master wasn't terribly important (such as a command or something of that nature) she silently thought, as she folded up the paper and placed it on the nearby shelf. Fully drying off her hair, she finished cleaning up the bathroom and blew out all the candles. Putting on her new attire, she was again amazed at how well it fit and how good it felt. Combing through her hair with her fingers, Isis inspected herself in front of the floor-length mirror, and noticed that she not only felt more refreshed, but looked it as well. Walking out of the room, she moved into the darkened familiar bedroom.

Not wanting a repeat of earlier, she decided to definitely stay in the room this time. Turning on the lights, she began to close the drapes and noticed an open window. _That wasn't open before…could Le Creuset have opened it?_ It was the only possible answer, and so she therefore left that window alone. Looking around the lonely room, Isis pondered to herself. What should she do now?

Looking over to the packages that had arrived with her yesterday, she could see that they had not even been touched. Deciding to take the dangerous and risky initiative, she went to the antiques and began to sort through the art. Slowly, she shifted the heavy sculptures to one side and the vases to another. Stacking the books on a desk, she looked around the tabletop for some paper and a pen. She had begun making an assessment of everything that was there, wondering where her master would put them all, when she felt the night breeze blow against her bare feet and ankles.

Looking back to the open window, she was surprised to see a large raptor perched on the window ledge. It was a huge bird of prey, its golden beak dangerously curved as was its dark talons. The plumage of the bird however, was not what she usually expected to see. While the underbelly was the usual creamy white, the majority of the fine feathers were a lovely scarlet color, ending in a magnificent tail and wingspan. The eagle (at least that's what she thought it was) watched her closely, its head tilted slightly as if studying her.

Isis was astonished to see it at first, but as she kept looking at the stillness of the majestic animal, she felt a calm and reassurance come over her, like she was sure this creature wasn't going to hurt her. Putting down her paper and pen, she walked over to the eagle, leaning down to look closer at it. Reaching over carefully, she smiled gently as she slowly stroked its feathers. The bird slightly arched up into her hand, obviously liking her touch. Glad to see the predator liked her, she decided to take it a bit further and began to speak to it.

"Hello there, magnificent one. What are you doing here? Have you come down just to see little me, o' king of the skies?"

The bird looked at her brightly as she talked, as if her words had elated it. She grinned wider, happy that the eagle was happy. She had always loved animals, but didn't get much of a chance of seeing any, much less becoming friends with one. She stroked the bird more boldly, "And _will_ you be my friend, my glorious crimson eagle?"

The bird screeched at her calmly and nuzzled its head under palm. She laughed lightly, "Well, I guess that's a 'yes'."

She kept stroking its grandiose feathers, taking an instant liking to the fearsome hunter. However, as she looked at it, she felt a slight pang of regret touch her heart. She must seem so dirty and filthy in the presence of such an imperial creature. The thoughts reminded her once again of the looks of disdain from Jasper and Horatia this morning, and she inwardly shuddered in memory of the horrible incident. Yet, she reminded herself, that she had deserved the glares they had given her. She was soiled refuse…no better than rot-ridden garbage. She was a used piece of trash that had no other purpose other than to serve. Her last master had drilled that into her head, and she knew that what he said was true. She wondered how anyone stood to look upon her, seeing her and knowing automatically that she was damaged goods. Standing under the keen eye of one of God's most spectacular creatures, she suddenly felt contemptible and appallingly unworthy.

Deciding to take a chance and looking into its eyes, she was surprised to see that they weren't like the normal eyes of an eagle. These eyes were mystic eyes, outlandishly rotating all the colors of the rainbow, as if they were twin crystals refracting light—like a prism.

_A prism…_

A cold hand abruptly gripped her heart as she suddenly realized that she had only seen one other pair of eyes like these before. Dropping her hand off the bird, she retreated slowly away from it.

This was no ordinary eagle. No, like Xyra, this raptor was only another form that could be taken by a person with magical powers—her master, Le Creuset!

* * *

Quirinus and Calix had quickly flown into downtown Sydney, choosing some ruffians in an alley behind a club as prey. Feeding sufficiently for the night, the two brothers had parted ways, Calix heading toward their company's top building, while he headed back home. His twin said he would use his computer, as well as other skills to check on Morrison Biotech. He would also be sure to find a suitable bodyguard for his brother's lifemate. Quirinus only had three requirements: the human had to pass Calix's most critical tests, he had to meet the human himself, and the bodyguard was to be a woman. He would not take chances with another man, and he had to be sure that this woman could be trusted with his mate's life. He was not going to take any risks this time…

Calix told him he would report if he had anything, and it was at that that the two had separated. But before he left, his brother had left him with a things to think about.

'_And what of your eyes, brother?'_

He honestly didn't know how to answer that question. As a normal Carpathian, he could easily control his ability to give compulsions, but his limitless eyes were unpredictable and random. He might have been lucky that first time in the fact that she might not have looked directly into his eyes, however, he knew that could not possibly last. The last thing he wanted, was for his lifemate to become a hopeless mind slave every time she looked at him. There was no relationship in that, and it had always been one of his worst fears. Memories of the many times he had accidentally turned his parents and playmates into puppets when he was a child, rushed back to his memory, haunting him. Never again would that happen…not to his lifemate. He had promised himself that if he ever received the miracle of finding his lifemate, she would come of her own freewill and never would she feel the power of his eyes. Even if it meant that he would never be able to see her with his natural eyes, and that he would always have to wear sunglasses in her presence—then so be it.

His head in turmoil, Quirinus rushed home as fast as the wind would take him, thankful that his brother knew well enough to let the two have the house alone tonight. He was still nervous about how he was going to present himself to her, but that didn't seem to matter as much as the fact that he just had to get home to her, to be by her side. He wondered if she was still asleep, but even then, he would be content to just watch her until she awoke. Her mind was blank to him, and so he couldn't tell if she was sleep or awake. However, as he approached the house, he could easily see the light in one particular open window and was overjoyed that she was truly and finally up and about.

Increasing his speed he arched up into the sky, before swooping down towards the house, and with pinpoint accuracy, landing carefully on the sill of the risen pane. Keeping his movement silent, he shifted over slightly so that he was now inside, his talons clutching the internal ledge as his eyes adjusted automatically from the tunnel vision he used in aviary flight, to the normal vision of a man. Needless to say, the sight that greeted him simply…took his breath away!

_She's so…she's beyond beautiful…_

Seeing her, up and walking about, was so much more out of this world than he had anticipated. He had actually expected her to be taking it easy after the horrible nightmare she had been through earlier that day, but his brave little lifemate appeared to be taking everything in stride. He was grateful for that, even though his heart still throbbed at the memory of what had almost happened to her, and how he had not been able to protect her like the treasure she was. And _what_ a treasure… Quirinus had been taken aback by just observing her when she was sleep, but this was…_this_ was beyond anything he'd ever anticipated!

Her long silky tresses sparkled in the light, as they swirled around her shoulders as she walked, framing her perfect, stunning face that seemed to have a rosy glow he hadn't noticed before. Her arms and legs were slender, wiry, and adequately proportional like that of a runner or swimmer. Her waist was diminutive and petite, perfect for wrapping his arms around, and her body was amazingly curved in all the right places (if a little frail, but that was nothing that a little nourishment wouldn't fix), giving him the image of a willowy hourglass. Her feet were average sized for a woman, but for some reason they appeared slightly smaller because they were so delicate and seemed to make her as light as the morning mist as she walked. The dress he had made for her, the racy colors flowing against her creamy skin, looked simply ravishing! The claret of the dress accented the azure of her eyes, and the black velvet gave accessory to her hair. It fit her flawlessly as he knew it would, and complimented her most distinguished features.

Divinely endowed, he could see from the curve of the dress that her ample, succulent breasts were nonpareil in every way, and he savored the thought of nestling against them, the sensation of feeling the soft flesh of her body against his. As she moved, he could see that her graciously-rounded bottom was firm and steady, _sans peur et sans reproche _like the rest of her figure. He had seen many women in his lifetime, and even though he didn't claim to be an expert on human female beauty, what he did know was that this woman was unlike any women he had ever—or would ever—lay eyes on. After seeing her like this, he knew she was the woman for him. He was beyond any fleeting doubt that this delightful creature who he had not as of yet, found out the name of, was indeed the other half of his soul, and the soon-to-be love of his life. He had waited, staying true to only her for far more than a millennium, and she was now standing in front of his eyes—it was just too good to be true! His body simply went aflame with desire, a wanting instinct grew within him, to consume and engulf her until he didn't know where he ended and she began. His matchless eyes sparked with great passion at the temptation her body provided…a temptation he was more than willing to give into.

Forgetting that he was watching her through an unprotected gaze, he continued to watch silently as she struggled in moving things within the room. She showed quiet strength for one so petite, but he was concerned as to why she was straining herself so. Finishing up with sorting the artwork that the Morrison Company had left within his room, she moved over to the desk and had begun writing some things down when she suddenly turned and looked directly at him!

Paralyzed by her look, he simply stared back, his breaths becoming shorter and shorter as she abandoned her writing and slowly approached him. His lungs stopped working altogether, as she cautiously reached over to him and touched his head. Her caress was so incredible; his back arching involuntarily at the pleasure it brought him. One thought entered his head: _There could be nothing more marvelous than this._ But he found out almost immediately, that he was quite wrong…

"Hello there, magnificent one. What are you doing here? Have you come down just to see little me, o' king of the skies?"

He stiffened for a second, before his soul literally leaped in ecstasy and euphoria at the heavenly melodious and cantabile resonance that was this maiden's voice! He had never heard the like before, and was sure that even the angels in heaven would have had to struggle to match its purity. He had waited for an entire rising to hear her speak, and now he knew he would have waited an eternity if only to hear that voice once more.

But the heavens were gracious as they allowed him to listen to her again, her fingers brushing against him with more confidence than before. He listened as she asked if he would be her friend, and he didn't have to read her mind to hear the distant longing of her heart. She thought herself only playing around by asking a simple beast of the field for friendship, and little did she know that he was quite serious when he responded affirmatively to her question. He was her lifemate, and therefore it was his duty to ensure her happiness and contentment, and it went without saying that he was to be both her friend, lover, and husband.

Her laugh was heavenly and her smile divine…how could anyone be that wonderful? How could anyone be such an angel? He had never felt this way about anyone! Even before he lost his emotions, he had never experienced sensations such as these. His heart leaped at the smell of her scent, his blood called for hers, his heart pulsed in time with hers, and he knew that she was his…but he also knew that he didn't _deserve_ her. She was the light, a woman of life, laughter, and beauty, while he was the embodiment of darkness, a hunter—a killer, who had more blood on his hands and had taken more lives than was possible to count. He would never be able to do anything that would make him worthy of one as pure as her. In fact, if she ever saw his true form and knew what he could truly do, she wouldn't be this close or this friendly with him. He didn't know how he was going to explain the truth to her, but he would have to do it very gradually. This woman was a delicate marine flower, who seemed strong on the outside, but if one more bitter wind hit her, it would be too much.

As if on cue, he heard a small gasp and the wonderful feel of her caresses was suddenly absent. Ignoring the bereft feeling that strangely came over him and refocusing his mind, he looked up at her and found that his fears had come true. Her feelings and emotions jumped out at him, and where they had once been peaceful and at ease, they were now replaced with terror and trepidation, as if someone had just thrown a switch. It cut his heart to see her back away from him, slowly collapsing to her knees on the floor and hiding that precious face from view, her entire body trembling.

She had somehow recognized him! His lifemate was more perceptive than she appeared; she must have recognized that there was something a little different about this Australian claret eagle. She must have seen it in his eyes—these accursed eyes! He should have been surprised that she wasn't under his hypnotic control by now, but he could no longer be shocked by anything she was capable of. If she was one of the very infinitesimal few in the world who was in someway protected from the "limitless eyes" of the renowned Blood Brothers, than he counted it as definitely a blessing in disguise. _It's probably a fluke, maybe she never glanced directly into my eyes, but for right now, I have other things to worry about…_

With perfect grace and absolute stillness, he launched from off the windowsill, hovering in the air a bit before morphing gradually back into his original form. Not wanting to scare her further, he silently approached her shuddering body. However, as he came closer, he could see that glistening tears were streaming down her delicate cheeks! Each moist drop seemed to be like acid burning and eating away at the depths of his spirit…

He would not have this! No one was going to hurt her again—especially not he himself.

* * *

Backing up until she came to the desk, Isis fell to the ground unable to quell the quivering of her body. Moving into the correct kneeling position without even mentally thinking about it, she squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth in panic. _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! What have I done? What in the name of heaven is he? …a wizard? …a sorcerer?_

She couldn't believe what she had just done! She had been talking to him and touching him as if he were on the same level as she—nay, even of a slightly lower caste of one such as an animal! Was he testing her? What other forms could he take? How long had he been watching her from his hiding spots? She groaned at the thought of him seeing her while she enjoyed her bath. He would think her wasteful and never let her have such a privilege again. She should have just washed and gotten out of there.

Was this how things would be from now on? Would she have to always be on her guard not ever knowing if she was in the presence of her masters or not? She had had a small hope that this place may be better than the last, and that she would get a reprieve from the constant terror and violence. But it seems like she had started to hope too soon…

She subconsciously felt moisture upon her cheeks and was horrified to find that she was crying. Tears usually caused her masters to become more ruthless toward her, relishing in the sight of seeing her afraid. She tried to stop herself, but the teardrops would no more cease falling, than her body was to cease shaking. She did not know how, but she could fell him coming towards her. It was as if his entire presence exuded power and being within the same room with him sent tingles of electricity all over her body. He made no sound as he walked, as quiet as a ghost and just as mysterious…who was this man?

A sudden jolt shot through her at the touch of flesh touching against her own, instantly quieting her shudders. The touch of his hand was soft, light, and diffident, feeling the practically bare skin of her shoulder, and trailing up her neck to her cheek. Strange…usually when a male touched her like this, her body would have gone cold and her stomach would have begun to churn. However, with this man's light touch, her abdomen was quiet, and instead of growing cold, her blood warmed and her skin became hot. That gentle, mellifluous hand, slowly and very carefully, whipped away the tears that streamed down her face in rivulets.

Isis had never felt so kind and soothing caresses before! While the feeling was slightly sensual, she didn't get those ravenous lusting sensations that seemed to exude from all the other men that had touched her. Why was this one being so—nice? Not that she was complaining of course! It was just that that she wasn't used to men not just throwing her to the ground or the bed and saddling her at first sight…

_Why did he care? Was he even really there? _His touch was so weightless that he might as well have been a phantasm. But the fell of him, it was so different from the others. In fact, she rather liked it. Before she could stop herself, her hand reached up and pressed his hand closer, the heat from his skin overwhelming her to the point that for a moment…she wasn't thinking straight.

At first, his hand froze, but only for a split second. The mysterious man, turned his hand slightly, his delicate but firm grip tilted her chin up so that she was looking towards his face. _That face…_oh, how she remembered that face…

It wasn't until this moment, that she realized how much she had longed to cast her eyes upon that ethereal face once more. He was again dressed in black, and he hailed as much elegance and authority as he had when she had first met him. Power and dominion clung to him like a second skin, and despite the fact that he was being so gentle, she could tell there was darkness there, a predatory side to this strange man who was too commanding for simple words to encompass. She had no idea how she could possibly look at him even now! The one thing that she did regret, was that he was now hiding his eyes behind a pair of chic mirrored sunglasses, but that was soon of no consequence when she saw the way in which he smiled at her. She tried not to faint at the tender smile that was granted to her, from his dazzling lips.

"Why are you shaking so, _inamorata_? If it is because of me, I beg your forgiveness, for I did not mean to scare you."

She was so star-struck by his rich, sensual voice that she could no longer move, let alone answer. _'Who IS this man?'_

As if he had heard her thought, his smile grew wider, and he turned his hand so that he took her own much smaller one into his grasp. His thumb faintly skimmed over the surface of the back of her hand, causing tiny, surprisingly pleasant, quivers to run down her spine.

When he spoke for a second time, the sound of his voice did about the same thing, except this time—the quivers were about ten times more potent.

"Fear not, little one. I know that you have been put through a lot, and you may not trust me as of yet, and with good reason. Nevertheless, please know that you are safe here. All of your questions shall be answered in time. However, I can answer one that is running rampant within your mind right now. As to the question of who I am, that is quite simply answered. I am called Quirinus—Quirinus Le Creuset."

A spark of recognition came within her mind at the revealing of his name. Even though she had known about the French-derived "Le Creuset", the sound of his much more Latin sounding first name was quite refreshing and unique. Sounding like it was ancient Roman in nature, she had no difficulty imagining Quirinus as one of those ancient gladiators or mythic heroes that she had seen on antique paintings and classical vases.

Quirinus saw that she was processing the information, and that the fear he had felt within her wasn't as strong as it was before. Hopefully, now she would be able to answer the one question he had been waiting to ask her since the minute he met her. "If I may be so bold, may I ask for your name, _inamorata_?"

Her body trembled at the sound of his question. What if he didn't like her name? What if he started calling her by all those annoying nicknames that her other masters had come up with? She found that for the first time, she really wanted this man to like her name. She would give anything to hear him say it, even if it was just in passing or in total anger. And before she had a chance to stop herself, she spoke her name on the breath of a whisper.

Quirinus thought he heard something, but even his keen hearing couldn't pick up the words that she had spoken. "Did you say something, little one?"

Taking his question as a rebuke, she mentally slapped herself for forgetting her status for the umpteenth time. She was a slave, and he was her master, she was supposed to refer to him as such whenever he ordered her to speak. His questions, she realized, through all the flowery language, must have actually been commands. She would have to get used to that in time. However, the more she was around him; the more she was confirmed in her belief, that he was beyond any master she had ever had. This man could not be human; he was too intoxicating and formidable for that. Even if she had not seen and experienced the magic that he held, she would still think him as a god among mortal men. To simply call him "master" would seem like a sacrilege.

Quirinus held his breath as after a minute she looked up at him, those turquoise eyes sparkling, still full of doubt and insecurity, and something else he couldn't put a name to. Something in her eyes made her look ancient and full of mystery: it was not the look of a mortal, or a Carpathian, this…this was older. The way the night air blew around her as she watched him with that look, she seemed almost as immaterial as an apparition.

On the other hand, this time her voice was strong as is it answered him.

"My name…" She said slowly, "My name—is Isis, my lord."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Calix Le Creuset walked through the carpeted halls towards his office, ignoring the stares of employees who were surprised to see that their boss was actually there in the flesh; as he entered his personal office suite across from his brother's. Locking the door behind him and quickly scanning to make sure no one had intruded upon his inner sanctum, he took off his sunglasses and sat behind his desk.

Quickly starting up the computer, his hands began to fly over the keys at a blinding speed. When computers had finally been invented, Calix had been drawn to them and their techno-world of bits and bytes. In the present day, he was quite an expert hacker without rival, and there was no computer network that he couldn't slip into. Even the most high security organizations were laid bare before him. Interpol was a piece of cake, FBI and NSA were a joke, and MI-6 was mere child's play. Whatever information he wanted on the human world was bare to his fingertips, and right now…he wanted information on Morrison Biotech.

However, first things first, he needed to find a responsible bodyguard for his brother's lifemate. He had heard from across the telepathic link that Traian Trigovise's lifemate, Joie, was in the business of providing protection. Finding a way to contact the both of them was no problem, and he quickly wrote out his plea in an e-mail, craftily phrasing his words to make sure they both knew what he was really saying, without completely saying it out loud.

He merely said that he was close to Mrs. Trigovise's husband's family and that he was in dire need for a special bodyguard for his brother's fiancé, that she was a person of some importance, and it was like the two were mated for life. He wanted to be with her, but she wasn't suited for his night life, and therefore he needed someone who could protect her during the day. He preferred a female bodyguard who wouldn't ask too many questions, and one that would be reliable and honest. Money was no object, and he needed an answer back ASAP.

To a normal reader, the plea appeared to be harmless, a normal business offer. However, Calix knew that members of the Trigovise Clan were excellent at looking between the lines of a situation and getting to the real heart of the matter, and he knew that they were also honor bound to their Prince as well as to the Carpathian people. He had seen Traian from a distance (the male about four or five decades younger than he), and he had had fought alongside Traian's slightly older brother, Adam, several times. Both Carpathians had excellent intellect, and he knew that the ancient hunter would have no problem finding out the true message behind his short e-mailed request.

After sending the quick e-mail, Calix went on to maneuver his way onto the Morrison Biotech computer network. His brother would have hardly any time now that he was courting his lifemate, so it was up to him to take on the brunt of their duties in the hunting of the undead and protecting their people from butchers such as the so-called vampire slayers. Just the thought of those bloodthirsty bastards made the beast within him growl and unsheathe its claws. He bet that none of those murderers, had even captured much less killed a _real_ vampire, and he bet if any of them even truly saw the real McCoy they would not last two seconds, but at least they would finally know the true difference between the undead they wished to hunt, and the innocents that they slaughtered, both human and Carpathian alike. The heathens probably wouldn't care either way…

Coming out of his thoughts, he reassessed his situation. Yes, he would have to do most of the hunting and digging himself now, but he did enjoy a challenge. Hunting had been thin the last couple of months, and he had to admit that he was bored.

Halfway through the week, he would travel up north and make his rounds in lower Asia as well as the islands in between. The trip would take him four days or so, but it was all in the job description of a hunter: restless day and desolate nights, the violence from the constant kills blacking his already strained soul. But he had already made peace with himself concerning his fate, he couldn't hope for what he couldn't change…

After he had finished making his rounds, he could go and visit Fáelán and tell him the good news about Quirinus. Of course, he could do so right now, by communicating using the blood bond that he and the younger hunter held, but he would rather check on the kid himself and in person.

Returning his mind back to the task at hand, Calix glanced back toward the computer screen. Getting through to the Morrison Biotech's general network was a breeze, and the inner network was proving no tougher, but as he began to delve into their research section files, things started to become more difficult. Finally, this is where he wanted to be. What was Morrison hiding, and why was it delving into his people's affairs?

As he got into the deeper more secure files, he began to see that that the information was no longer given in an alphanumeric manner, but were now given in an Arabic and Sanskrit code!

This was of no consequence to him; his eyes quickly scanned the data, translating it instantly as he read. The reports mostly consisted of experimental projects and contracts with the several governments and military groups. Nothing jumped out at him particularly as he flipped through pages of statistics and facts, so he began to look closer. Suddenly the words "integrated live species" leaped out in front of his eyes. As he studied the code more closely, he was surprised to find a completely separate code buried within it! This one was completely in binary!

"Well, well, well…'oh the tangled webs we weave'."

He was about to take on this new challenge head on, when a sudden knock on his door jarred him out of his concentration!

_Of all the nerve!_

He spoke out coldly, "What is it you want? I am extremely busy."

A human male responded, his voice trembling slightly in intimidation. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Le Creuset. But two representatives from Morrison Biotech are here to see you."

_This caught his attention…_

He quickly clicked the monitor off before speaking again. "You may enter."

The door swished opened and one of his VPs, Ralph Hampton, appeared with two other men following him. One, he recognized as a John Sadler, from the meeting that had gone on yesterday night. He was a little slick-haired, weasel faced yes-man from the company, a person Calix didn't even think it was worth holding a conversation with.

The second man however, was the exact opposite. He held an aura of command and arrogance that almost rivaled that of a Carpathian male. His auburn hair was streaked with gold, and his dark brown, almost black eyes were sparked with menace and challenge. As far as he could tell, the man was appealing to the eye, at least by human standards. He, like the representatives at the meeting, had a strange barrier that prevented him from easily reading his thoughts or intentions. However, he did get the same feeling that there was another presence looking through his eyes, the same one which he could not identify from before. The man himself however, no matter how benign he appeared to be, had a definite malevolent streak that seemed to be engraved into his very manner. If he had to say anything about this man, it was that he was very dangerous and not be trusted. He had no proof except his instincts, and that was enough for him.

Ralph, who like most of the employees, was rather unnerved by his actual presence, cleared his throat before introducing the two men. "Sir, this is Mr. John Sadler."

The man smiled snidely and put out his hand at the intro. Calix looked at the hand, and nodded his head in accordance, but didn't make a move to shake it. Sadler, slightly uncomfortable in the redhead's company, put his hand back down and took a step back away from the desk.

Ralph watched the exchange, becoming more and more uncomfortable in front of his silent and intimidating boss. Quickly, he went on the side of the more dominant visitor, "And this is, Mr. Vermilliard Veleno, Sir."

The tall brunette nodded in greeting, "As a fellow businessman Mr. Le Creuset, I know precious time can be. We won't take up much of your time."

Calix looked the man over and noticed that the man carried a self-assurance within him, that neither of the other humans in the room could hope to achieve. "I thank you for being so thoughtful, Mr. Veleno…Vermilliard? That is an unusual name."

The other laugher, "No more than 'Calix', I assure you; but you can call me Mil if you want, mostly everyone does."

The Carpathian lifted a single eyebrow at the man's answer, before turning to Ralph. "You may leave us now, but be sure to ask a secretary to bring in something to drink for these two gentlemen."

The vice-president nodded in acquiescence before leaving Calix alone with the two men. Before they could even begin talking, his secretary Ms. White, came in with coffees and sodas. When the three were alone once again, he stared at the two humans for a moment before speaking. "Now what is it I can do for you, gentlemen?"

It looked like Sadler was about to say something, but Veleno quickly cut him off. "We just simply came in to check up on things. We were actually surprised when Mr. Hampton told us that you were actually here in person, since it's a well known fact that neither you, nor your brother, reveal yourselves to society very often. I mean, we had to jump through hoops just to have our guys meet with you yesterday night."

Calix gave him a light, yet slightly arrogant smile, his like for the man waning. "My brother and I enjoy our privacy, Vermilliard."

The other nodded, sipping from a bottle of Sprite, "Really, you must call me Mil. And I think every human being enjoys their time of privacy. I know _I _do. I enjoy it just about as much as I enjoy the company of a good woman…"

Veleno and Sadler laughed at what seemed like an inside joke—one that the Le Creuset twin didn't find the least bit funny, even if he **did **have his emotions. He never understood the reasoning behind human men trying to bed every attractive female they could find. Making love was a precious thing, only meant for the one woman that fate had destined to complete the man. The females of his species had always been considered and treated as rare gems, more precious than gold, platinum, or colored diamonds…even before they were almost driven to extinction. He would never understand human logic in thinking otherwise. For a Carpathian male to mistreat his mate in the way that some humans were capable of, he would be immediately judged by either his maltreated lifemate or by the Prince, and put to death….

"Is there something I can help you with, _Vermilliard_?" He said coldly, purposefully not using the man's nickname.

Sadler seemed to notice the tense mood that the Carpathian seemed to bring down upon the office and decided to immediately state his business. "The reason why we came, Mr. Le Creuset, was just to check up on the status of things. We wanted to make sure the both of you got the gifts we had sent to your house. Did everything move along okay?"

"What my friend means to say is, did you find everything that we sent to your satisfactory?" Veleno's eyes made contact with Calix's as if trying to gauge his reaction.

The male promptly decided to reward the man's efforts with none. "They were all very satisfactory and well appreciated, thank you. However, just to make sure everything is clear between us, this does not reopen negotiations between us. My brother and I are very firm on our position."

Mil flashed him that star-studded grin that he guessed would catch the eye of many human women, yet it just seemed to put him on edge. "Well, that of course wasn't the purpose of the gifts that we gave you. Those were simply to thank you for taking time out to see us. As much as we would have liked it, we won't try to force your decision."

_I wonder who this guy is trying to fool with this act? Cause the only person in this room being taken in by the act is the mealy-mouth Sadler, who sits there with that stupid grin on his face. _While Calix found this devious conversation interesting, he didn't like being placed under the microscope either. "Well, gentlemen, unless there is anything else you want to discuss…"

"Well as a matter a fact—" Sadler began.

Veleno cut his partner off again. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Le Creuset. We'll just get out of your way now, as I'm sure it must be some pretty urgent business that called you away your _busy_ social life."

Calix decided not to dignify the snub remark with an answer; however, he didn't make a move to get up when the other two did so. "I'm guessing you can show yourselves out—or do you need a PR to help you?"

Mil shook his head, his brown eyes flashing with inner ire at the slight insult. "No, I'm sure we'll be fine."

The human gave him a predatory smile, promising in unspoken words, that this wasn't even close to being over, and that the two would meet again.

Calix welcomed the chance to really engage in a verbal battle with the intriguing Mr. Veleno. "Farewell, Vermilliard. You too, Mr. Sadler."

As the two crossed to the door, Mil turned back to him with an astute smirk on his lips, "_Fino a quando ci incontriamo di nuovo_…Calix."

_**Until we meet again…**_

The Carpathian reflected the man's smile back at him, "_Sarò in attesa_, Vermilliard."

_**I'll be waiting.**_

Mil nodded before turning his back and heading out the door, followed by a very confused John Sadler.

Calix listened to their retreating steps before smiling and clicking his computer screen back on. Now that he had met the intriguing and darkly malevolent Italian-born representative from Morrison Biotech, he was more determined than ever to find out what the secret corporation had to hide.

* * *

The young man walked down the busy Sydney streets, the cold air that seemed to constantly surround him, appeared to drive everyone and anyone away. His clothes were dark under the sleek trench coat he wore, the sleeves rolled up halfway to his mid-arm. His hands that were hitched in his pockets were covered in a pair of skintight black leather gloves, despite the heat of the Australian night. His dark eyes seemed to see everything all at once, the orbs aware of even the smallest of movements around him. And the flair of his lashes and eyebrows as well as the daintiness of his fair face, gave him an almost fae appearance. His black hair held a shimmer of dark blue in the light of the moon, as it shifted in the wind. It was tied up in a ponytail high on his head, the long sleek tresses falling down his back until the slightly curved ends fell along his calves. However, his vaguely feminine looks did nothing to cover up the strong masculine essence that seemed to exude from his very core.

He had come to this country on a whim, a small getaway from his home and duty back in Asia. And while his outer façade didn't show it, he was totally exhausted in more ways than one. Sighing to himself, he hoped this trip to visit his brothers would somehow bolster his spirit from out of the depressing darkness to which it had fallen. Hunting the undead was no challenge for his body, but it was no walk in the park for his soul. But being a hunter was what he was; it defined him and gave his life meaning. He held his duty as precious to him, even while his own life meant nothing. He was a creature of darkness, a night walker, a lone predator…but for that his heart was suffering.

He was tired, both physically and mentally. Patrolling throughout the entire continent of Asia single-handedly was daunting in and of itself, but doing it while his spirit called for the darkness at any given movement was trying his soul to the utmost. He prided himself on having excellent self-control and restraint, but even so, he was at the end of his rope.

His name was Fáelán—a Carpathian without peer. No Carpathian or vampire had ever beaten him in battle. Not many shared the many abilities that he had been blessed with—but none shared his greatest curse.

He continued through the streets, ignoring the looks that he received from the humans he walked among. Many of them looked at his sprite-like eyes or his lengthy hair with curious eyes, but he was neither bothered nor affected by it. He liked the way he looked, even if it was slightly more exotic than normal human standards. Besides, he had suffered worse stares and jaunts from his own people, than the ones he faced now.

Fáelán was no true lover of the Carpathian race as a people. He would never betray them or his Prince, but neither would he count on them as comrades. He had learned the hard way, that in order to survive, one could only rely on one's self. It was the only reassurance he had. Well…he couldn't quite say that. There _were_ four other people that he relied on beside himself.

The only reason he had, and continued to do the job that he did, was because of the only people he held higher than his own life. His four companions, brothers to the end, were the ones to teach him responsibility and obligation. Each of the four taught him something from themselves, eager to prove to him that living the life of a Carpathian was not such a drudge. Lucian had taught him determination and sacrifice, pushing him to keep going toward his goals, no matter the cost to himself. Gabriel had taught him the gifts of loyalty and humility, that family comes first and you never leave a man behind. Quirinus taught him the art of strategy and preparation, that if you fail to plan—you're going to get your butt kicked. And then there was Calix, who had probably given him the best lessons of all: friendship and laughter. None of the gifts had affected his life quite as much, as those two gifts, and because of that he could never thank Calix enough.

However, with the passage of time, he, like his brothers and all males of his species, eventually lost his emotions and was now colorblind. And with the loss of these two things, the lessons taught to him by his brothers were all he had to sustain him. His memory of the love he had for them, and the love and camaraderie they had expressed for him. He hadn't spoken to Calix or Quirinus is months, and he hadn't come in contact with Lucian or Gabriel for centuries. Towards the later twins, he hoped that with their newfound emotions and new families, that they still felt something for him in the way of friendship within their faraway lives. He would check in with the Le Creuset twins every so often as well, subtly checking to see if their sense of companionship with him had seemed to wane. He needed that conformation; he needed it to stay sane…

Those four were his only family, his only friends. He didn't know if even _they_ realized the depth of his connection to them. It was also part of the reason that he had come to this populated city in the first place. The communication silence for the past several months was unnerving. If it wasn't for the blood bond that he shared with them, he would have been tempted to be concerned for their welfare.

As he neared the Creuset building, Fáelán felt a spark tingle up his back. Soon, it was accompanied by the alluring scent of water-fresh nights and desert flowers—he stopped for a second and turned his head to get a clearer grip on the wonderful smell. _Where was that lovely perfume coming from?_

He tried to trace the scent, but as quickly as it had come, it escaped his grasp. Frustrated, he let out a small growl, only to be quickly cut short when a human walking behind him pushed past, briefly touching his shoulder. The man said a quick "excuse me" before continuing on his way down the sidewalk.

The second the two touched, another spark shot through his body, and he got an even stronger lungful of that intoxicating smell that sent shivers through his soul. Following the man with inquiring eyes, he studied the guy's lengthy legs clad in soft blue denim, his blue sweatshirt that he wore with the hood pulled down over his head, the red cap underneath, pushed low over blond hair. _Well, somebody is trying their best to be inconspicuous._

It was then that it hit him that he was seeing the man in color! Rich, glorious, four-dimensional **color**!

Quickly turning into a nearby alley, he slid to the ground as the rich shades and tints that he had long ago that he would never see again, rushed back to him and choked up all his senses. Carpathians were a more sensual species than humans, and to suddenly have emotions back after almost two millennia of their absence, was mind-warping! Fáelán felt his heart pounding, trying to escape his chest as raging sensation swarmed his body, and his eyes burned from trying to remember how to process colorized images once again. Quickly, slowing down his erratic heartbeat and breathing patterns, the ancient Carpathian tried to get a hold on himself again.

'_Fáelán? I sense your distress. You sound close…are you in trouble?'_

He smiled as he heard Calix's worried voice in his head, and a renewed rush of affection for his comrade swelled in his heart. A slight appearance of what could be the start of a tear, welled up in the corner of one of his calm eyes—he hadn't felt anything like that in so long…

'_I am close, brother. I am seven meters away from your company's main headquarters. Something is happening to me, Cal. I—I cannot understand it.'_

'_Stay where you are. I will come to you shortly.'_

'_I don't wish to—'_

'_I said, stay where you are, Fáelán. I don't want to hear any unnecessary lip coming from you.' _

Calix was kind and funny towards those he kept close, but when the time called for it, he was all business. He knew there would be no more conversation until his brother appeared, and he had better be there when the older Carpathian came. So, he just sat still, and tried to understand what was happening to his body.

All this started when that human passed me in the street… Did he somehow inject me with some sort of chemical, some sort of poison?

Closing his eyes, he went inside of himself to see if anything was amiss. However, he found nothing, except for the fact that the beast that lay inside the dark depths of his heart was more restless than ever. For some reason, it kept pulling him to go after the man that had caused this, even though he knew the human was probably long gone.

He still held that scent in his mind, that wonderful mix of wilderness and beauty that was like a flowering rough country after an unmarked rain. He found that he quite liked that smell, and he wanted to smell it again, and again, and again. He wanted to be surrounded by it and the warmth it provided. He wanted—_something_ else, too. Something he as of yet couldn't identify, but that he wanted with a passion. He had to have it! Whatever _it_ was….

He had never felt so ardent about anything before, in the same way he was fervently wanted to find this unknown thing that he couldn't quite place. What the heck was wrong with him?! Why were having emotions again so freakin' frustrating?

"Well, you're no worse for wear I see." A slightly amused voice interrupted his thoughts.

Looking up from his spot on the ground, a man wearing a black leather jacket and mirrored sunglasses, as well as sporting a long plait of striking red hair down his back, stood in front of him with a light smirk. Fáelán smiled back up at him, "No worse than yourself, I can assure you."

Calix calmly chuckled before offering his hand to help the younger one up from the ground. "I can see that it is not a physical ailment that bothers you. Come, let us talk in the privacy of my offices."

He watched as the younger of the Blood Twins instantaneously transformed his body into his own form of his favorite eagle, before settling on the edge of the roof of the building he had been leaning against, waiting for him. While his insides felt as if a flock of butterflies were making righteous torment throughout his system, Fáelán held back his feelings and transformed his body into that of his favorite bird of prey: a completely black Philippine Eagle.

As the two soared into the sky, Calix spoke into his head with a snigger. '_Show off…you choose the largest and rarest eagle for your form, and don't even get the color scheme right. Who has ever heard of a completely dark Philippine eagle?'_

_'And who ever heard of a _red_ Wedge-Tailed? You can't talk, Cal. You show me an eagle that looks as extravagant as you, and you can spit in my face. I like the black.'_

_'Whatever…'_

The two flew through the air side-by-side for a few moments, before swooping down through the open balcony window of Calix's office suite. The two reverted back to their human forms before their feet alighted upon the floor. The Le Creuset male sat down at his desk, before picking up the phone and making a short call. "Ms. McCullum? Yes, please hold all my calls and don't let in any more visitors. Thank you."

Fáelán took off his jacket and sat down on a convenient leather couch. Making a sweep of the room with his mind, he made sure that he and Calix were alone in the suite, before he slowly peeled the black gloves off of his hands. He mentally sighed with pleasure as the air hit his now uncovered skin, seeming as if to breathe life into them. He looked down at them, and inattentively noted the difference in coloration from his hands to his forearms. He just ignored the divergence and put his gloves down next him, within easy reach.

After putting down the phone, Calix peered at his friend who had made himself at home on the couch. "Now, that we won't be interrupted, why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

For once, the other man felt uncomfortable within his brother's presence. "I-I think I might—I might be…poisoned, Calix."

The redhead looked at him with both surprise and concern. "I scanned no such presence in your body, Fáe. And you should know how to purify your systems of such toxins, Quirinus taught you that, centuries ago."

Pushing his long hair from off his neck, Fáelán shifted awkwardly. "I know, but I have heard that there are some poisons that our enemies have created, that are not so easily destroyed. By the way, where is Quirinus? Isn't he here with you?"

The other man scratched his head, he mouth crinkling into a discomfited smile. "Well, you see…something happened last rising and—"

Before he could say another word, the raven-haired Carpathian was banging his hands on the desk top with exigency. "Something happened to my brother?! Why didn't you tell me earlier? Did you think I would go off? Is that why you stayed out of contact with me? You were worried I'd do something drastic?! Well, I'll tell you something Calix—you'd be right!"

Staring at the young man, he had never seen the man so irate! Fáelán was literally leaning over the desk, his eyes aglow and his fangs extracted. Since when did his little brother get so—_emotional_?

"Fáelán, are you—"

The other male growled and the wind howled. Nobody messed with his brothers and got away with it. _**Nobody! **_When he had felt Lucian almost die because of a psychopathic serial killer's bullet, he had wanted to hunt the human down post haste and impale him to a wall, before breaking off every digit, and every limb of the villain's body, and then set him aflame! It took the Le Creusets all their power to stop him, and in the end, it was only the fact that Lucian himself had rectified the situation, that had been enough to calm him down.

"Just tell me—what—happened…"

Calix took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Nothing is wrong with Quirinus, Fáelán. You know if something had really happened, I wouldn't simply be sitting here. I would have let you know immediately, and if it was really serious, I'd have contacted Lucian and Gabriel as well. My twin is fine. He's just…busy…tonight. And anyway, why are you so wound up? I've never seen you like this."

Blinking his eyes at his brother's exasperated tone, Fáelán let his angry mood subside before he could think clearly. Now that he was assured of his brother's safety, he slowly realized how out of character he was acting. Yes, he had always had a short temper when it came to threats to those he cared about. But he had never been so out of sorts that he had resorted to yelling and turning all of his anger on an innocent messenger.

He felt his heart pounding with ire, and his head throbbing as he tried his best to restrain the monster that was straining its leash in order to be released. What was wrong with him? He had never had this problem with control before…

He put a hand to his head before turning away from the redhead and walking away. "I-I'm sorry Calix. I didn't mean to yell at you. I told you, I think I was poisoned or something. Nothing in my body seems to be working right."

The other man peered sideways at him, "What happened, Fáelán? I can call Quirinus if you need him."

He shook his head, "No, if Quique is busy, I don't want to bother him with—my problems."

Calix smiled at his little brother's use of the pet name he had given to his twin brother. Fáelán had bestowed each of his brothers with such a name when they were fledglings, showing the amount of affection he held for each of them. "If you are truly troubled, you know he would not hesitate to come."

Sentiment filled his heart, and Fáelán had to quickly disguise the embarrassment he felt as he body threatened to betray him. He quickly decided it would be safer for him to change the subject, while he tried to figure out his body. "So…what are you doing in the office tonight, Cal? Something come up, or are you too bored with the hunt these days?"

Knowing what the younger Carpathian was doing, he let him change topics. When the male became comfortable enough to talk to him, Calix would listen. "The numbers of the undead have been in steep decline in recent months, and I'm suspecting that it might have to deal with all the trouble occurring back in our homeland. I'm in the office because a certain company called Morrison Biotechnology in interested in our company and I'm using the computer network to find out why."

Fáelán frowned, "Morrison? That name sounds familiar for some reason."

"It should. Our brothers all over the world have been having run-ins with the company and we know that it is somehow connected to the vampire hunters as well as the undead themselves."

His frown turned into a scowl, "You aren't working with them, are you?"

Calix looked at him incredulously, "Who do you take us for? Of course not! Instead, I'm going to try to hack into the Morrison guys' mainframe and find out what they're up to."

"Is Quique investigating onsite or something?"

Calix looked away, "Well, about that…I might as well tell you this now, Fáe. Quirinus…found his lifemate yesterday."

The younger blinked for a moment before turning toward the window, his heart heavy. "So, that's where he is then…"

"Now I know you think that Gabriel and Lucian abandoned us once they found their lifemates, but that's not true! And know that Quirinus is not going to abandon you either. It's just that courtship is a very delicate thing. Think of it this way, you didn't lose three brothers—you gained three sisters!" The redhead was quick to reassure him.

Calix knew that Fáelán had no idea of connection or family except of that that he had shared with his adopted siblings. He couldn't conceive of a person separating his feelings into categories between spouse, siblings, and friends, as he had never been shown as a child. This, he was ashamed to say, was the fault of his own people's foolishness and cruelty, that they had sported just as freely as the humans now do, once upon a time.

However, with each of his siblings getting a lifemate, the younger ancient was feeling more and more alone, especially at this perilous time for him. He had hated to think about it, but Fáelán was as close to turning as he was, and now that he didn't have to think about his twin's soul any longer, he could concentrate on supporting his younger brother until the man found his own lifemate someday.

When Fáelán didn't respond, he tried to lighten the mood slightly, "It is because of my new little sister that I sent in a communiqué to Traian from the Trigovise clan. You remember his family, don't you? We need a bodyguard for my brother's lifemate during the daylight, until she can be converted. Trigovise's lifemate is in the business of protection, and I asked for some references."

The younger continued to look out the window. "I can tell you right now, who Trigovise will suggest: Adrielle and Isabella Marquise."

Calix raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "You've dealt with bodyguards?"

Fáelán shrugged, "I was in the business for a few years around five years ago. Hunting on its own can be boring at times, so I went into small businesses over the years. Protection was one of them. Adrielle and Isabella were on my payroll."

A sudden ding sounded from Calix's computer, to which he shifted his attention. Opening the new email he'd been sent, he smirked before looking at his friend once again.

"Well, it seems you were right on the ball. Traian just sent me a message recommending the same two women you did. And they just happen to be in Sydney right now, visiting a relative. He gave me the address of the hotel they are staying at, as well as their number. So, what have been your experiences with these two women? Can they be trusted?"

Walking back to the couch, the other male sat back down and began reading a tabletop magazine. "They were my number one agents, and they knew how to keep secrets. I have blood bonds with them, but I never had to use them. They are good at what they do, and they will never let their principal die, even if they have to give their lives themselves. They're quite a team."

Calix looked at him curiously, knowing the hunter's mannerisms as well as he knew Quirinus'. Fáe wasn't really reading, he was only trying to distract himself from whatever was truly bothering him. However, he chose to say nothing about his friend's strange condition, but instead commented, "That's quite a stunning recommendation coming from you. I'm surprised for you to admire anyone greatly, much less, a couple of humans."

Fáelán responded absently, "They're not human, they're lycan."

The redhead's grin widened, "Well, that obviously explains a lot. I'm sure a little bit of wild canine protection will put some of my brother's fears to rest."

Swiping a black hair from out of his face, he looked over to him. "What has Quique to fear? I am sure that we three can handle whatever comes our way. You know what Cal, I never understood the other males obsession with a lifemate. She is only a woman, what is there to get so hyped up about?"

Calix blinked his face, showing as much surprise as an emotionless being could give, and then he looked as if he were trying to process Fáelán's statement. A slight flash of understanding and sympathy came over his face, before he looked away back towards his computer. "You'll understand when you find your own."

He snorted in return, "I'll never have one. They say every male and female of our species has one, but I've always been an incongruity. You know that as well as I."

He looked at his hands for a second, before he stood up and began to pace, "I could never put any woman through a life with me. No self-respecting woman would want to. I mean, I've never been an agreeable person to get along with, and I've always been a loner since I was younger than a fledgling. There is no point in even considering it."

Fáelán was unaware that while he spoke, his voice began to rise in intensity and frustration. His companion however, missed nothing and was watching his friend in concern. He knew that something was wrong with Fáelán, but he had never heard him give such an…_emotional_…outburst before.

He could understand that the subject of relationships was a very sore one in Fáe's case. But he had never seen him so out of sorts. "Calm down, you're getting twisted up over nothing. Did you feed tonight?"

_CRASH!_

He blinked at the sound of a crystal vase hitting the wall with violent force, before looking at the person who had thrown it. Fáelán's eyes were beginning to glow scarlet, and he was breathing raggedly through extended fangs!

"**Don't**tell me to freakin' calm down! I AM calm, Calix! And please don't mention feeding again, because that just irks me, for some reason that I can't understand, since I DID feed already. But it's not just that, everything seems to irk me! _Everything_ seems to rile my very soul. I can't even think straight anymore! My mind feels at if it's in a vice. My heart feels as if it will explode!"

Without a second thought, Calix was instantly by his irate friend's side. He took him by the wrists and held him still in a titanium-like grip. "Fáelán! Stop screaming and just listen to me. Or so help me, I'm going to smack the living daylights out of you."

At the stern sound of his brother's voice, it took a second for Fáelán to come back out of the frenzy he had been in, and another second for him to realize how out of line he had been acting. Mortified, he looked away from Calix and towards the floor where the shattered vase lay, and then back to his brother again, shame for his behavior shadowing in his eyes. "I—I don't know what came over me, Calix. I…I am sorry."

He smiled with understanding and an air of final comprehension. "Do not be…I'm not."

Fáelán looked at him with concern, "What do you mean?"

Calix let go of his wrists and began to walk back to his desk, "Well, I wasn't sure at first, but now I know…"

He turned and looked at him with knowing eyes, "You have your emotions back, _don't you_?"

Shifting his thick black hair from off his neck, the male turned away from his host. "I don't know how it happened or why…I just can't understand why this is happening to me."

He curled his fists tightly, his frustration beginning to show again. "How can this be possible? I've trained for years to keep my emotions in check, and when I lost them, it didn't really affect me. But one night—one minute—and I'm a complete broken up mess! I'm—a—_freakin'_—mess."

The redhead smiled even wider, "There is only one reason that you can be able to feel again. And if I remember correctly, earlier you said that my eagle form was _red_. I'm guessing that means that you are no longer colorblind either, is that correct?"

Fáelán nodded his head, "The colors were irritating at first, but my eyes seemed to have gotten used to it now."

"Um-hmm," Calix nodded before, "There's only one thing that can cause such happenings to occur to your body."

He sat down at his desk and crossed his legs before looking over at the young friend with that self-same smirk.

"You've—found your _**lifemate**_…"

Fáelán blinked, "I don't understand, my—lifemate—was the one who poisoned me?"

Calix shook his head with an amused laugh, "In a manner of speaking…"

He suddenly because quite serious as he looked into his friend's confused face, "Fáelán, I myself must apologize on behalf of my brothers in that what I am about to explain to you now, should have been explained to you many, many years ago. We were derelict in our duties and have ultimately failed you. If we had explained earlier, you probably would not be feeling the discomfort and vulnerability as intensely as you do now."

The elder of the two thought back to all the years that he had spent with his young compatriot, and had remembered that the subject of lifemates, in all those centuries, had never come up. He and Quirinus, as well as the Daratrazanoff brothers had learned both from their parents, as well as by the example within their society of what a lifemate was, and what miracles she could work for a male's soul.

Fáelán, who had neither been taught nor shown an example, had of course been born with the knowledge of how to treat and want to protect a female, as well as naturally, the bonding ritual words buried inside his heart. However, they had never thought to teach him what they had simply known all their lives. One such fact being, that colors and emotions return, when one has found one's lifemate…

"Fáelán, sit down."

When younger did as told, and listened intently as Calix began to explain, his face serious with not even a hint of the havoc he was feeling internally.

"Whenever a Carpathian is born, whether they be male or a female, are born with only half of their soul. That is true for you, me, Quirinus, Lucian, the Prince, everyone. In essence, we spend the rest of our lives, looking and searching for the other half of our soul…looking for that one person who will complete us. That "other half" of our soul, is called our lifemate. Out of all the beings on this planet, throughout all the millennia, there is only one lifemate for each male and each female, only one person who holds half of our own soul…

"Now, it is the duty of the male to find his lifemate, as he is the only one who shall have physical reactions that will prove as indicators. It is he, who also is the one responsible for the binding ritual that weaves the soul of the two lifemates into one. Once this ritual is done, it cannot be undone. The lifemates much touch each other's mind and body often, and the thought and feeling of separation can be strenuous on both spirits. If one lifemate dies, he or she is usually followed to the grave by their respective mates.

"A male's number one duty, other than one's pledge to our prince, is to ensure by any means necessary the life, health, and happiness of one's lifemate, to be well cared for like the priceless fortune she is. For the male gender of our species especially, his lifemate is the savior of his soul in quite the literal sense. The darkness that consumes us the rest of our lives after we have lost our emotions and the colors of the world around us, is totally extinguished once one is bound to his mate, and the danger to becoming a vampire is also no longer an issue. You Fáelán, are one of the rare ones to have somehow finally found your lifemate."

When Calix had finished, Fáelán stood silent as he thought about what his brother had said. He had heard about lifemates, and every so often he had heard the ever so ancient words whisper within the depths of his spirit. But he had never thought of them in such an intense light before. Thoughts and questions flowed through his head like water, making his head swirl. But one thought had stuck out even sharper than all the others:

_He had a lifemate…a mate that was only for him, for all eternity…_

The thought both excited and scared him half to death. In all his years, he had had a responsibility to only himself and the few things he cared about. Now, it seemed all that had changed. _What do I do now? I can't even think anymore…_

However, he still had a question or two.

"I had heard that our women were rare, even all those centuries ago when we left the homeland. How can I have found one here?"

Calix shrugged, "Do you not remember? It has been found that there are some humans and other species that can be our lifemates, as long as they have some sort of psychic or extraordinary ability. Lucian's lifemate was human, and Quirinus' is a whole other species entirely!"

At Fáe's raised eyebrow, he hunched his shoulders, "Hey, don't ask me. I truly don't know what species she is. My brother has no idea either. Anyway, a woman who passes those parameters, can easily be converted into a Carpathian by three blood exchanges."

He then watched surprised as the other moaned and dropped his head in his hands, "Now, I'm expected to convert her _too_?! Do I have to?"

Calix went to his side, "Yes, it is both beneficial and necessary to your relationship. It's not so bad. I'm sure you will do fine."

Fáelán stood up and walked away from him, "I can't do this, Cal. There are too many things that can go wrong. What happens…what if I…what if I **_touch_** her, brother. I will lose her, just as I lost my parents…"

Calix looked at him solemnly for a minute before taking the man's trembling hands in his own. "I have faith in you, Fáelán. You will find a way through this. However, the only thing I can tell you is to follow your heart. It can feel again, so listen to what it tells you to do. How about we go to her now, and I will guide you on how to court her."

Fáelán groaned once again at the sound of the word "court". "Well how am I supposed to find her in this city?"

The other man blinked in question, "What do you mean, don't you already know where she lives?"

He shook his head, "I haven't even seen her. I must have lost her in the crowd."

"Oh my," Calix face turned back into a light smirk once again, before going to sit in his chair. "In all the years I have been alive, I have never heard of a male misplacing his lifemate before. Well, you're going to have to find her, before anything happens to her. She must be placed under our protection. Can you remember anything? A smell, a taste, a sound, _something_ of the person you had the most contact with before your emotions returned?"

Fáelán felt his face blanch. "The person that I had the most contact with? Before I …but the only person who I had contact with was—a man!"

Calix stood up, "That's not possible. Are you sure?"

"Yes, because when he walked past, he bumped into me, and I remember smelling the most amazing scent I've ever known. After that, was when I began falling apart."

He leaned his head into his hands once more, "Never did I figure that I would be such an pariah as that fate would curse me with being the only one to have a male as a lifemate. I think I'd rather face the dawn."

"Now let's think about this rationally, what if it's really a female dressed as a male? You know humans do strange things." Calix tried to explain. He refused to think that providence had played such a horrible trick on his friend, especially after everything else that was stacked on the ancient's shoulders.

Fáelán however, let his newly found emotions drag him further into despair. "Don't try to make up excuses for fate, Cal—"

A sudden knock on the door cut off any further conversation, causing both males to go back into their usual detached mode and send their sensors out to observe.

"I gave out an order that I was not to be disturbed." Calix said with cool irritation.

One his secretaries answered timidly, "I'm sorry, but there are some people here that insist on seeing you, sir. They carry the name Marquise."

The two looked at each other and Calix sent a mental message to his younger brother. _'It looks like Traian called them ahead of time.'_

Fáelán simply shrugged in response before taking up his leather gloves from off the sofa and placing them back on his lithe fingers. His body and facial expression went back to that of complete impassiveness, so that no one could have ever known that he was going through one of the biggest crises in his life.

Calix spoke out once again, "Send them in, Mrs. Johnson."

The door slid open and three people entered the room, and instantly the dominant auras could be felt sparking with the Carpathians' own. Two were a pair of twin women, their black curly hair tied in ponytails down their backs in soft ringlets. They each wore an antique silver heart locket around their neck, one engraved with the letter "I", and the other with the letter "A".

While they looked identical, their scents were distinct, even though both carried wild undertones. Their brown eyes flashed in striking vibrancy despite the darkness of the night, and every so often a flare of silver could be seen within those distinctly predatory orbs.

Both wore black suits that seemed to accent their ivory skin, and they held carefully trained muscles underneath those slight frames. They possessed an aristocratic bearing that caused them to seem as if they looked down upon the entire world around them, and begged for a challenge from the disdainful masses. Yet, it appeared to be the opposite of the man who accompanied them.

He too had a feral feeling about him, but his was more playful and mischievous, like of that of a young puppy. However, beneath his caramel skin, and his lighthearted dark eyes, was an essence of safeguarding and dominance, as even though he stood behind the two women, he was clearly protective of them.

When the door closed and the women looked at the two Carpathians, their eyes seemed to light up when they saw the Fáelán.

"Well, if it isn't Fáelán-sama once again? When Joie called us about this job, we didn't know we'd be running into you. Are you friends with Le Creuset?" The woman with the "A" locket spoke with amusement, her golden spike-like earrings sparkling.

He nodded in return, "Adrielle"

Calix glanced at him, speaking with his thoughts. _'Fáelán-_sama_?'_

'_When I worked with them, it was in Japan. They thought calling me by that honorary title was…_amusing_.'_ The black-haired Carpathian let the smallest traces of a smile light his face.

The other sister walked up to Calix and extended her hand. "I'm Isabella Marquise, and this is my sister Adrielle, and my cousin Shawn Anthony."

He shook her hand and gave a light smile, "Thank you for coming so speedily. I have heard good things about you and your sister from Traian and Fáelán. I however, have to say, that I didn't expect to see _three_ of you."

Shawn held up his hand as if to ward off Calix's intense gaze. "Wait a minute Carpathian, I'm not in this outfit. They're the ones who put their lives on the line for people they don't hardly know. They were just staying with me while they were in town and I drove them here. This is all them."

Le Creuset nodded at his answer, glad that he would not have to have the displeasure of telling the lycan that his brother would blatantly refuse his services.

He looked over to the twins and motioned for the girls to sit down. "Now, I am sure you have plenty of questions, as I also have questions for you. You may talk freely in this room. The walls are soundproof, and no one can enter without my permission."

The male werewolf whistled with admiration, "You have a nice place here, Creuset. I wouldn't mind having a nice office like this. But alas—I'm not really an office type."

Isabella scoffed at her cousin, "I don't think you've ever been this close to a desk in your life."

Adrielle laughed along with her while explaining to the other two men in the room. "My cousin is a relic recoverer, a.k.a. a treasure hunter. He lives his life in the ocean, far away from his element, even though we are constantly warning him against doing such…"

Shawn's eyes glistened as it reflected the silver light of the moon. "I love the ocean sisters-kin, but I will never deny my heritage."

"Then maybe you should find yourself a new line of work, cub. One that is less risky since our race is already scarce as it is." Adrielle commented imperturbably.

The male's eyes flashed with a sliver of anger, "Well, maybe I should comment about how the two of you are risking your lives for the fragile humans, instead of finding yourselves a good mate…if you still want to talk about preserving our race."

Before the twin females could retort, Fáelán decided it was time that he interrupt. Werewolf pack squabbles had a habit of ending ugly. "It is time I take my leave, Calix. I think you should come along, wolf. We should let them take care of the business at hand, as the night must continue to wane on."

There was no room for argument in his voice and he simply moved between the male and his cousins, indicating that it was time to leave. Anthony's eyes shifted from one person to the next before finally smirking and turning his back on the whole group, a little laugh escaping his lips as he walked out the door with a one handed salute.

Fáelán watched the young male leave, before turning his head and nodding silently back to Calix.

The redhead nodded in return, knowing they would continue their conversation at a later time. _'I shall not be long, little brother. However, you know what you must do. It is a matter of life and death, that you find her, Fáelán.'_

'_If you deem it so brother, than I shall scour the city until I find this mysterious lifemate of mine…even if it is—a _man_…'_

Calix mentally shook his head as his friend transformed once again into his raptor-form, not at all surprising the twin ladies in the room, and flew off out the open balcony door.

'_It __**is**__ a female, my friend. Trust me in that…'_

The dark eagle screeched out his reply. He would trust his brothers till the end of time…

* * *

After he had shaken that worm, Sadler, back at the parking lot, Vermilliard "Mil" Veleno drove home in his red Porsche, silent fury stewing within his brain. His first face-to-face meeting with one of the Le Creuset brothers had been informing, even if the man himself was beyond aggravating. That redheaded bastard and his implacable demeanor…

He supposed that to most, the man would have almost seemed dark and frightening, even to the point of instant intimidation, but he simply found the man to be completely annoying. He wanted to slap those freakin' glasses right off his perfect face!

His rage rust silently incubated as he drove, glad that no one was on the road to face his wrath. After driving for about an hour, he neared his 200 acre estate and drove through the steel gates, barely acknowledging the gatekeeper guards. Leaving his car to be put away by his valets, he entered his home and was immediately attended to by two young women dressed in clean but ragged clothing. They removed his coat and gloves and then went to their knees before him, waiting for their next command.

Mil barely glanced at them before he waved them off dismissively and headed to his study. One of the women spoke to him softly but hesitantly, "A visitor is waiting for you in the study, master. He said you were expecting him."

He looked at the female from the corner of his eye for a second, but he decided it wouldn't help his temper to punish her for interrupting his thoughts and talking without permission. He simply stared upon her with a look so cold that it drove her back to her knees before him, giving her a visual warning against committing such behavior again.

He then abruptly let her go and turned towards his study once again to face this "expected" visitor.

Flinging open the doors, he was greeted by the sight of a man sitting comfortably in one of his chairs as if he belonged there. The man sipped at his bourbon drink before looking up at Veleno without saying a word.

Mil just shook his head with a harsh laugh, before closing the doors behind him and walking over to the bar, pouring out a drink his own. "Now, I wasn't expecting to see _your _face so soon."

His visitor arrogantly looked up at him, before downing the rest of his liquor. "I've never tried to live up to your expectations, Veleno. Where have you been this night? Not out whoring again, I hope."

Mil settled down in the other chair before responding again, "Not that it's any of your business, do you honestly think I need to _go out_ to get pleasure?"

The other man nodded in acquiescence, knowing that Vermilliard had many female "servants" that could satisfy his needs—whether they wanted to or not.

Mil went on, "I actually went to see one of the Le Creuset brothers tonight."

His guest looked up at him, brushing his hair back slowly, "How did it go?"

"That man was impeccable! Just thinking about that haughty jerk makes me want to stab a stake through his heart, for ever thinking that he was even remotely on my level. You should have seen the way he was looking at me, as if I was some lowly bug. If I had been free to do what I wanted, he would not have been so cocky. And then, he wore sunglasses the entire time, as if we weren't worthy to look upon his face…who where's freakin' sunglasses inside, in the dead of night?! I would have seen him groveling at my feet, begging for mercy before I was done with him…"

The other man thought for a moment before asking a question. "How pale is he?"

Mil looked at him strangely, "Pale?"

"Yes, pale, and is he almost naturally supercilious and domineering, yet he acts like a prince around women and children? He secludes himself and his affairs from everyone else around him except for very close family? Whenever you're around him, do you feel this slight tingle within your head? Does he seem to avoid sunlight at all cost, and only seen during the night or early morning, often insisting on meeting at those times? And even though he can smile and interact, he seems as if there is truly not one emotional bone in his body?"

The other man laughed before giving a predatory smile, "It seems almost as if you have met the twins before, or at least the younger of the two, Calix Le Creuset. How do you know so much? Hearsay?"

The man smiled and gave a deep-throated chuckle, his canines starting to become more prominent as the Jaguar half of him began to show—quite literally—its teeth. "My dear Vermilliard, it seems as if you have almost literally stumbled upon our enemy. And if what I suspect is true, we might have to change our plans altogether."

His dark eyes widened slightly, "Are you saying—? Interesting…"

The Jaguar male nodded with a smirk, "Yes, I think that the famous Le Creusets, may very well be Carpathians. They are probably two of the missing ancients, since I have not heard their names mentioned, or seen them personally myself. Those bloodsuckers can be annoying, can't they?"

Mil took another sip from his drink, "That's an understatement. If that man is an example for the entire Carpathian race, then I pity you for what you've had to endure, being among them for so long. I understand completely why you want them eradicated."

His feral visitor gripped his empty glass tightly, cracks beginning to form under the pressure, "You don't know the half of it. Those demons can get even worse when they are free to be themselves amongst their own people. You want arrogant? Try spending some time with that "prince" of theirs, and his second-in-command's even worse. Sometimes I can't wait to get out of their presence so that I can puke. However…if the Le Creusets are Carpathians, then we can just forget about their cooperation. I shall have to talk to our superiors about a change to the plan. It might have been premature to try to use your girl against them."

Vermilliard's visage grew even darker with inner fury, "Why is that? I'm sure Isis will do her job."

The man shook his head, "If there is anything that belays a male Carpathian's titanic ego and pride, it's their fortitude. They cannot be bought by sensual desires no matter how beautiful the woman, they will completely resist. They are completely loyal to those women to which they call their 'lifemates', and most of them, with the exception of maybe one or two here and there, will remain perpetual virgins for thousands of years, waiting only for that one woman."

Mil felt a mix of frustration and relief at his friend's statement, "How _self-righteous_ of them…the bastards. How would we know for sure that Le Creusets are part of that infernal race, and not just strange regular humans?"

The man's eyes turned feline as he gave a smile that would have made any other man shudder uncontrollably. "You have to get into their stronghold, and I think I have a perfect man for the job. Well…if you want to call him a 'man'…"

As if in response to his statement, a knock came to the study door. Mil looked over irritated, "Come!"

The door opened and a slave girl entered with her head bowed, followed by a swaggering young man. "Excuse my interruption Master, but—"

Mil interrupted her briskly, "You may go, Sara."

The woman's face flushed for a moment before she bobbed a curtsy a hurried out the room, leaving the two men alone with the new caller.

Mil looked at the newcomer with scrutinizing eyes, "Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. What are you doing here?"

The Jaguar male looked up at his host, "This was the young man I was going to suggest to you Veleno, but it seems you have already met him."

Mil gestured for the newcomer to take a seat, "I've called him in for a few jobs here and there, but I don't know if he's up to this kind of work."

He looked directly at the young man who would be infiltrating the Le Creuset's personal domain, "Well, do you think you can get in there without being seen? You know me kid, I accept nothing less then perfection."

Professional treasure-hunter and mercenary Shawn Anthony, let his lycan fangs come into view, as he smirked at his two newest employers. "And perfection is all that I have to give, Mr. Veleno. But I can tell you right here and now, that not only are Calix le Creuset and his brother, Carpathians, but they also seem to be on to your little game and have been investigating Morrison."

Both men in the room looked up at him sharply, but it was Mil who was the first to speak, "Are you sure?"

Shawn nodded as he bit into an apple from out of a bowl on the coffee table, "I can tell a Carpathian from scent alone, and I saw your company's network database on Creuset's computer. However, there is also another thing you aught to know…"

This time, the Jaguar was the one to speak as he thought hard over steepled fingers. "What else could there be, wolf?"

Swallowing the piece of fruit he had been choosing, he turned to the two men. "Quirinus Le Creuset has requested bodyguards for his new fiancée. Now if you know the Carpathian culture like I do, you'll know what that means."

The man nodded in return. "It can only mean one thing."

Mil looked between the two non-humans and decided that he had to be the one to ask. "Well, what does it mean?"

The Jaguar male looked over at him, "It means simply, that we have found a greater weakness for the Le Creuset boys than we could have ever hoped for. It seems that the woman you sent to the Creusets, is in actuality—the _lifemate_ of the elder twin…"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It was three-thirty in the morning before Xyra actually stopped to catch her breath. It had taken her twenty minutes to actually escape that hellhole that had held her captive for more than two years. And even after she had escaped the grounds and made it to the city, she had to keep on running, knowing that that bastard who had forced her to call him "master", would have sent out a dragnet to chase her down. But she was no stranger to running. It seemed she had been doing it for most of her life. When your people are on the top of a whole new kind of endangered species list, one learned how to run from the predators pretty early in order to stay alive.

It made her sick to her stomach to know that she had had to leave Isis behind. The woman had been her only friend in that place, and she had left her alone to face Vermilliard Veleno's wrath. The shame cut her sharply, especially knowing what the demon was probably doing to her at that very moment. But she also knew that Isis would never have had the courage to escape on her own. She had sadly been broken long ago, and Xyra knew that if she had lived the life Isis had, then she would probably have ended up the same way, if not worse.

_But Isis won't be there long_, she reminded herself. She had vowed to return to that place and rescue her friend, right before she burned the mansion to the ground. Then she would take Isis with her, and show the woman a world of freedom that she had never known. _It may take me some time, mate, but I'll get ya outta there, I promise._

Xyra had walked the Sydney streets for hours now. After reaching the city limits, she had transformed to her human form before stealing some clothes from a local shop, and commenced to blend in with the crowds. As she hid in the shadows of a small bar, she pulled the baseball cap down further on her blond hair. She could afford to be noticed by no one. One time, she had brushed against a strange man, and became alarmed when he began to follow her. However, thankfully, he didn't follow her for long, and she guessed her male guise had discouraged him. The guy had a nice face, but it was a little too delicate for her tastes, he was probably some weirdo cross-dresser or something on the way to a party. Well at least she wouldn't see him again. But she couldn't put down her guard; she would not be captured again! Anyone could be a spy sent out by Veleno, and her golden eyes alone could make her stand out like a sore thumb!

"It's amazing we've lasted this long in secret with eyes like these." She grumbled quietly to herself.

All shape-shifters had the same molten gold eyes no matter what form they were in; it was an easy way to tell one of her people from the rest of humanity. But thank goodness most contemporary humans didn't know that. Humanity held her people as myths, right along with vampires and elves. Little did they know, that all three species were quite real, and some of them had even survived into modern day life. Now, she had never seen a vampire or elf before, but Papa had told her many tales of the other paranormal races that had existed in the world, and many of them were little like the mythical equivalent. Vampires were, like in legend, a damned race that drank blood and had many abilities, and could die by sunlight or stake through the heart, with weaknesses of silver. However, they were not created from humans, and were not the undead. They were vicious fallen creatures, who were once a noble race known as the Carpathians, who were so strong in both abilities and nature, that they had been held as divinity by the primitive humans of millennia gone by.

And the Elves, they were definitely not little tiny people who fixed people's shoes or slaves to a man in a big red suit! The Elves had been a strong, brilliant race, whose link to nature could only be rivaled by that of the Fae themselves. (And yes, the Fae, or fairies as humans call them, did exist too.)

The human writer, J.R.R. Tolkien, and those who thought on his similar wavelength, had the closest true idea of the true Elves. They were a tall, fair, graceful race that loved light and land. Normally they were captivating bards and magnificent craftsmen, but if the chance came to fight, they were as skilled as the Fae, as strong as the Carpathians, and as fierce as the shape-shifters.

Which, came to her own proud people; the half-man, half-animal creatures, who had once populated the earth, but were now on the brink of extinction. Though their proper name was W'aere (an old tongue word that meant "mediators"), they now simply called themselves shape-shifters. The Lycan and Jaguar races of today, had once been W'aere, but had grown so in population, that their clans had isolated themselves and eventually evolved to be different from the original species. In fact most werewolves and werecats, didn't known that the "were-" prefix, had been originally derived from the word 'W'aere'.

However, there were so little shape-shifters out there, that it really hardly made a difference. As far as she knew, she, Papa, and Miriallia, had been the only shape-shifters in all of Australia. She could always sense if there was another one of her kind nearby; it was as if a signal went off in her head, and she could home in on it like a beacon. However, this only worked between one shape-shifter and another; the humans and other races had had another method of telling a regular animal from a shifting one. All shape-shifters had bright, almost unnaturally gold eyes. When a shifter transformed, the gold of their eyes, would spread across to encompass the body until the transformation was complete. The eyes were always gold, no matter what form they were in. It was a trait however, that had helped bring down her great people.

The way Papa told it, while the squabbles between the different animal clans did help, it was the Mages who were the real cause of the downfall of W'aere. Of all the paranormal species, the Mages had been the closest to the humanity, and it caused them to be that more jaded because of it. Crafty and dangerous, they had used their power over the black arts to destroy whole civilizations out of jealousy and hatred. The extinction of the majestic Carpathians rested solely in the hands of the mages, who used tricks and manipulation to bring down the great immortals. The destruction of the great forests that scattered the Elves, and made them weak and defenseless, also can be blamed on the evil magicians. The Fae were decimated by the Mages' ruin of the land and had all starved to death without terra firma to support them. Without any allies to help them, the W'aere had nowhere to turn when the Mages turned their eye towards them. Hunted down and killed by the hundreds, the shape-shifters became extremely scarce, with little hope of recovery.

_Which is one reason that I have to find Miri._ Xyra thought to herself as she lifted her nose to the air in order to catch any dangerous scents. Her little sister was lost out there in that great big world, and if it took her forever, she would find her. The dingo clan of the Outback might have been very small, but they were still a pack. No shape-shifter turned their back on another. It might have taken her more than two years to escape the life she had been sold into, but she was back, and it was time to take vengeance on those who had destroyed her family and taken her sister. She would find Miriallia, she would rescue Isis from Veleno, and then—all Hell would break loose…

* * *

Isis…the great goddess of Egypt, the Mistress of the gods, the Queen of the Heavens, the majestic name couldn't have been more perfect for the woman set before him.

Quirinus moved his hands from her face to her arms in order to help her up, keeping his touch as light as possible, not wanting his rough touch to harm her, yet never wanting to lose any of the precious contact. She looked a little surprised as he pulled her up to her feet, but it passed as she shifted her eyes downward, and stared at the carpet. The behavior instantly made her seem weaker and defenseless as she clasped her hands together and tried to do her best not to look him in the eye.

In that instant, he felt a rush of protectiveness towards her that he couldn't resist pulling her closely to him and wrapping his arms around her despite her gasp of surprise.

"I know we know nothing about one another,_ inamorata_. And after earlier, your belief in me and men in general must have been greatly shaken. But please, just allow me this one moment. Then we can get to know each other for as long as the moon is full if you want to."

It wasn't the first time Isis had been embraced by a man before, but it had never felt like this! It was as if he was sheltering her instead of trying to feel on her body. It was like he was actually trying to…protect her? Now she knew she was going crazy. She had no idea what he had meant by what he had said, but she would eagerly go along with whatever he wished.

"You may do as you wish, my lord."

Her master pulled away and looked at her perplexingly, "Why do you call me that? It has been many years since I've been referred to as 'my lord'. I thought that practice had died out in most countries a century ago."

When she continued to look at him blankly, he continued. "Well anyway, you of all people don't have to bother about formalities. I know we kind of just met, but it would make me extremely happy if you would, just call me Quirinus."

The brunette's sparkling eyes went wide with what could only be disguised as shock. "My lord?"

He placed a finger on her lips and let a small smirk cross his lips. "Call me Quirinus, beloved."

Isis had never been called "beloved" before, and knew little of the meaning, but she had most certainly never been asked by any of her former masters, to address them by their first names! However, her ears knew a command when they heard it, and she of course obeyed.

"Of course, my lo—Quirinus."

The Carpathian ancient almost collapsed at the sound of his name coming from her melodic mouth. Her voice seemed to make almost every single syllable a masterpiece that he wanted to hear again and again and again. He wanted to hear her shout his name in ecstasy, to whisper it in wanting, to coo it while in the throes of seductive pleasure. He didn't care how she said it, as long as she didn't stop!

"Please, say it again."

She looked in confusion, but repeated exactly. "Of course, my lo—Quirinus."

He let out a small laugh, "Very funny, my precious Isis. You are an amusing woman."

She was even more confused now. She had done as he had asked, repeating what she had said before. Yet, now he said she was amusing because of it. The only times she had been told to "amuse" anyone was when she was ordered to use her body to please another. She had yet to do that with her new master, so she was perplexed by his statement.

But suffice it to say, she was right about the way he said her name. It was as if every single letter had been coated in chocolate and vanilla before they came from his lips, making it seem as if her name was the sweetest sound she would ever hear, the kindest word she would ever know.

"I see you got the garment that I left for you, did you read the note?"

Isis was startled out of her thoughts as she remembered the letter that her master had left her. Alarm spread through her as she realized there had probably been something important written on the paper, and she had been unable to read it.

However, before she could even apologize, he had left her side and wandered to the desk to glance at the inventory lists that she had made. Noticing the kanji characters that she had written, he turned and asked her in perfect Japanese. "So you are from the Land of the Rising Sun? I guess I should have suspected. Can you read English?"

Her face flushed in embarrassment and mortification. She was such an idiot! The master was not supposed to conform to the faults of the slave. It was better to admit her flaw now and get her punishment over with, rather than suffer through months of her master wearying of her inability to conform to his standards of language, which would end in a most painful and explosive culmination.

When he saw her go to the floor once again, Quirinus' first thought was that she had overexerted herself and relapsed back into her sickness! Worry filled him as he bent on one knee beside her and placed a light hand on her back. "_Inamorata_? Are you alright?"

The voice that answered him was timorous and shaky, but spoke flawless English.

"I am sorry, my lord. I beg your forgiveness for leading you astray. I speak English quite well sir, and most other languages as well. But I cannot write or read very well, even in Japanese which was the tongue of my birthplace. I beg you to pardon my faults, and I will try to adapt quickly my lord. I will do whatever you ask."

Quirinus looked at the bowed head of his lifemate and tried to make sense of what she had just quietly, and rather rapidly, tried to whisper to him. She could speak many languages, but was quite illiterate in all else? He didn't know what in her past had allowed such to happen, whether it was neglect of her parents, an accident, or utter stupidity on the part of the government, but she was under his protection now and he would give his mate all the things that she would need to not only survive, but to live in comfort and ecstasy for the rest of her days. The look of shame on her face had almost rent his heart in two it was unacceptable.

Once again, he took her hand in his and while relishing the contact, he pulled her to her feet. She looked at him in surprise as he answered (in English this time) softy "Whatever language you prefer beloved, I'll be happy to oblige. And don't ever feel ashamed for being who you are. You will be able to read and write in many languages before the month is though. But you must stop calling me 'my lord', and the kneeling thing has got to go too. I know they are a part of your culture, but I have no need for such things."

Isis couldn't believe what she was hearing. First, he had not only, not punished her because of her illiteracy, but was willing to find someone to teach her how to read and write, and in not just his own language, but many languages he had said! And that wasn't all! He had specifically said not to bow to him! Why? It made no sense. He was the master, she was the slave. She was made to bow before her superiors; she had been doing so since she was seven years old. How was she supposed to stop doing something, that to her was as natural as walking? She felt a sour feeling in the bottom of her stomach; this was not what she had been expecting.

To make matters worse, her belly chose that moment to make its hunger known ever so loudly. She cringed at the growling sound and waited for the inevitable, however her master only smiled with amusement and gave a little laugh. Despite the situation, Isis found the man's smile captivating; it was warm and tantalizing like a summer wind.

"Well, I'm sure you must be hungry, you must eat of course."

He led the way to the door and she followed behind him naturally, obediently. However, when he opened the door and gestured for her to go through, she hesitated, not understanding his motions at first. Yet, as she stood waiting, she realized from his lack of movement that he expected her to go ahead of him! Petrified by his lack of protocol, she could only do as he indicated and walked meekly out the door and try not to show how scared she really was. In fact, in order to calm her mind, she went over the rules for a slave that she had constructed over the years of her experience.

_1) Always kneel when in the presence of your owner._

Her master didn't continue to walk behind her, but came to her side and took her hand in his. Isis shivered at the touch of his skin and the smile he graced her with as he led her down the hall.

_2) Never look your owner in the eye._

She tried to look away from him, but he stopped and gently reached out and took hold of her chin. She had never before felt such a delicate and tender touch from a man before. It was as if he thought she was made of gossamer threads and that the slightest pull would destroy her. Yet, at the same time, she could feel the strength hiding below the surface, carefully coiled back and waiting to spring at the slightest provocation. However, it seemed that regardless of her horrible behavior thus far, he was not in the least bit provoked to use that strength against her as of yet. Instead he stopped and pulled her head up so that her eyes were looking directly into his.

"_Inamorata_, I can feel you trembling. You have no need to be so afraid. I swear there is no one who will harm you here; nothing that can touch you."

Isis was afraid of only one person at the moment, and that fear only increased as he continued to go against all the standards of his predecessors. How could she survive this?

_3) Address your owner as either: Master, Mistress, Sir, or Ma'am._

_4) Never speak unless spoken to, and never, ever talk back._

"Mas—" she began, trying to gather the courage to ask the man her growing list of questions, even though she had no idea how he'd take it. Asking questions went against the rules, but at this point she would rather take a beating than be lost in this limbo of the unexpected. But she stopped suddenly, remembering her owner's order that she call him by his name. Oh, how frustrating!

"Quirinus, I…I know nothing of…"

But before she could even ask one question, he placed a finger to her lips and placed his hand softly against her cheek. "We shall get to know one another very well soon enough, my darling. But that can all wait. Your health must come first and you need to eat and rest before we become better acquainted with each other. Trust me, all of your questions will be answered, _inamorata_."

Isis nodded appreciatively, but mentally sighed as she read off the rest of the rules in her mind. Maybe Le Creuset was eccentric, and that was why he wasn't acting like a proper master should. She would simply have to wait and try to cope with his odd behavior. When her master finally showed his true colors, she would be ready for him.

_5) Never do anything without your owner's permission._

_6) You can only eat, go to the bathroom, walk away, etc. when you are allowed to by your owner._

_7) You obey your owner's every order to the letter._

_8) Always walk two steps behind your owner, head down._

_9) Never ask for anything, your owner will decide for him/herself what you need._

_10) You sleep wherever your owner tells you, and make sure that whatever position that is, is lower than that of your owner._

She repeated these ten commandments to herself that had always helped her through many a master, and while her new owner had ordered her to break several of the rules already, it wouldn't pay to forget the adages that she would in all likelihood have to use again.

And she didn't know why, but the fact that he would eventually lose this kind and gentle façade, made her heart cry out in protest and pain. The knowledge that this handsome, magical man would eventually raise his hand to her, caused her spirit to wail with a sorrow she had thought to never know again.

Quirinus could only sigh with pleasure as he showed his mate around their home. She looked in awe of it, and it seemed to please her to which he was glad. He had never expected to find his mate, and so hadn't prepared the house for her. However, when was young and a fledgling, he had erected a grand castle within the homeland in preparation for his lifemate, constructing it stone by stone with thoughts of what she might want. He didn't know why but he had checked on it on and off through the years, and it still stood to this day, hidden by the magic he had woven around it when he had left the Carpathian Mountains. When their bond was complete, he would take Isis there and make sure she was so deliriously happy, she would be sick of happiness.

However, he was concerned and a little irritated that he couldn't contact her telepathically, or share in her memories. Usually one blood transfer was all it took, but that confounded mental wall of hers securely kept him out and all her own thoughts hid frustratingly inside. He wanted to broach the subject of her mental abilities, but he knew that she still wasn't used to him, and she had yet to relax while near him. Usually the natural allure and bond between lifemates helped to reassure and relax the female in these most strange of circumstances, but if anything, Isis was getting more and more skittish by the second.

Thinking back, Quirinus tried to think of what might have caused such a reaction, and he only had to think back to that morning before he wanted to punch his own daylights out for being such an idiot. His beloved had just been through a horrific experience that same day, which had followed on the cusp of her waking up in a strange house after just recovering from an illness, how stupid could he be for not considering! No wonder his lifemate was probably scared and probably angry with him, she had every right to be since he had yet to prove that she was safe with him. Yes, he had tried to calm her fears with words, but he knew it would take more than that. He was supposed to protect her in all things, and she had been assaulted within his own domain.

The angry guilt and self-loathing returned in full force and he felt ashamed. He was amazed that Isis would still even look upon him, much more let him walk beside her after his neglect. Well, he quickly decided he would offer himself up to her right now and let her judge him one way or the other. He could do no other.

Isis tried to push away her fears as her master gave her the tour of his home, showing her the entire floor (which seemed to be just guest rooms and bedroom it seemed, with two bathrooms on either end). They had just reached a sitting room on the second floor, which was quite exquisite. Getting used to her new surroundings, she was surprised when her master suddenly turned around and took her by the shoulders! She couldn't help but whimper as she realized she had done something wrong, even though she had no idea what it was.

Isis pulled her eyes away from Quirinus and looked back down to the floor. She was afraid of the redhead, not exactly in the same way she had feared her other owners, but in an equally terrifying fashion. This strange man with magic powers, made her unsure of everything. There didn't seem to be any rules, at least none she could figure out, which meant that she had no way of knowing when she had done something wrong. She didn't know what to expect, what to avoid, or even what her role was. Her new owner was dangerous simply because, he acted all wrong.

Quirinus led Isis to the settee before taking her hands in his and kneeling on the floor by her side. He removed his glasses, wanting to do this face to face. Yet, he was careful to keep his gaze away from hers. He wished that he could face her fully so that she could see his true feelings in his eyes, but he could, would, not risk it…

"Isis, my beloved, I…know you don't understand a lot of what 's going on right now, and because of this you don't have any knowledge of the connection between us or of my duty and privilege towards you. Nevertheless, that is no excuse."

He took a breath to steel himself and reflected that it was amazing how he could fight row upon row of the undead, but this small woman could bring him to his knees. He smiled…he wouldn't have it any other way.

"The man and woman who attacked you this morning, were under my employ. I had fired them today and they should have never stayed as long as they did. What they did, what that man did…it is unforgivable. I hold myself completely responsible for what happened, I should have better protected you despite the fact that I couldn't be by your side. I-I'm so ashamed of my neglect towards you. I promise you beloved; I swear to you by blood vow, that you shall never again be left so unprotected. No one shall ever hurt you like that again. I can only bow here before you and hope that you will forgive me for allowing you to suffer indignity, disrespect, and dishonor. I will do whatever you wish of me to repay this trespass, even if I must give my life to repay this debt which I so grievously owe you. I would give it gladly to you, for it is yours to do with what you will."

Quirinus kept his eyes away from hers, but he knew that she could feel his hands trembling as they clasped her own. He hoped that it conveyed the truth of his feelings and his words, and even though he knew that she knew nothing of Carpathian ways, he wanted her to know that she was the governor and owner of his soul. If she wanted flowers and chocolate, he would buy her the best the world had to offer. If she wanted the crown jewels of England, he wouldn't rest till they were brought before her feet. If she wanted his heart on a platter, he would hand her the knife. So intensely could he feel the connection between them.

Resigned to face the worst head on, he was quite surprised to feel her small hands leave his and take hold of the sides of his face. He could scarce stop from moaning with pleasure as he felt her skin move tentatively and questioningly over his own, before lifting his head up to look towards her own. Her eyes shimmered like sapphires within a glimmering pool, as she slowly pushed his hair from out of his eyes so that she was looking directly into them. He was so entranced by her gaze, that he didn't fully absorb the significance of what she was doing, or the consequences of such actions.

Isis had no idea what she was doing. It went against all her rules and all her training. Yet, the sight of this beautiful man pleading for her forgiveness at her feet, for no reason that she could see, caused a stirring within her soul. It was like when he had spoken within her mind and had answered her call. There was just a connection there, a rapport that was as bizarre as it was familiar. She felt his sorrow and shame, and though she didn't know what had caused it, she knew she had to get rid of it. If she didn't, she knew it would consume her, just as it was consuming him. She did what instinct commanded of her, and before she could even stop to think what she was doing, lyrical notes began to pour from her lips.

Quirinus had to gasp as melody filled the air. If he had thought that just the sound of her voice was ecstasy, the clear tone of her in song, was simply pure ambrosia. He was reminded of how he had heard her singing out to him, and despite the fact that the melody held no words, the meaning had been as obvious as the sunrise.

It was the same now, as the music seemed to seep into his very being, his very soul, and rinse away the guilt and darkness from his heart. Every Carpathian knew that a lifemate could cleanse the clenching shadow and iniquity from the depths of his soul. However, after so many centuries of battling and killing, of the bleak grayness and hopelessness, it was hard for any warrior to believe that anything could scrub his spirit clean. But at this very moment, Quirinus believed.

Words began to issue from her throat, a lullaby about peace and hope that had to be from the angels. She sang the song first in her native tongue only to follow again with the words in English.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't speak.

He could do nothing that would stop her, nothing to distract her. He simply laid his head in her soft lap and let the purifying harmony wash and ebb over him like soothing waves.

"_Konna ni tsumetai tobarino fukakude_  
_Anatawa hitori de nemutteru_  
_Inori no utagoe sabishii noharawo_  
_Chiisana hikari ga terashiteta_

_Anata no yume wo miteta_  
_Kodomo no youni waratteta_  
_Natsukashiku mada tooku_  
_Sore wa mirai no yakusoku_

_Itsuka midori no asa ni_  
_Itsuka tadori tsukeruto_  
_Fuyu gareta kono sora wo_  
_Shinjiteiru kara…_

Fields of Hope.

Beneath the veil of starry sky

As cold as winter's darkest night

It's there you'll sleep, silent and deep

You're all alone.

A single prayer's soft melody

Across the lonely silent fields

A little light began to shine,

It shines on and on.

I watched you as you so, peacefully dreamed

You laughed like a child, happy and carefree

It's so familiar and yet it's so far

That's the future as promised, for you and me.

One day on a green and shining morn',

One day we will finally make through,

Cause in the sky, so dark with winter

We still have to believe that it's true…

Fields of Hope…Fields of Hope…"

She hummed the melody as she stroked his hair, and Quirinus felt as if he would simply melt with contentment. Her song bespoke of the hopes for their future and he took her words to heart. There was something about her voice that seemed to reach within him and caress his very spirit; it was almost uncanny in its passion and power. An instinct older than he, caused him to gather her melody that radiated within him and broadcast it through the channels, letting his brothers know of his happiness.

* * *

Calix flew across the increasingly lightening sky, tired and ready to turn in. It had been a long day, filled with surprises and life-changing events. Imagine! Two of his brothers had found their lifemates in the same day. He was sure it was unheard of, but if was a joyous event all the same.

He could imagine the house full of laughter again, _real_ laughter! Quirinus and his new sister filling this desert land with life once more, and imagine if they were to be blessed with a child? Or even more wondrous—_children_! He could almost feel the joy through the shroud of numbing lack of sensation that surrounded his dark heart. And for Fáelán to finally, in his long life of disappointments, to find the key to his heart and soul as well! It was more than miraculous. He could almost forget the yawning hole that seared at his own spirit.

Calix had resisted the call of death for many decades, centuries actually, if you could believe it. He could not consciously leave his brothers to suffer and fight the good fight alone, despite knowing that there would be no reward for him in the end. He had fought off his despair, his depression, and his anguish, burying them deep within his soul so that not even his twin would be able to see it. He had built a façade so solid that none would be able to see the shreds of his tattered soul that had been left after…_her_.

But what would he do now? All of his brothers were settled and whole, or were about to be. Would he now finally be able to rest in the sun's fiery embrace? He shook his head, clearing away the thought. No, his job was not quite finished. First, he had to make sure that Quirinus and Fáelán had completed the bonding process and were in no danger whatsoever of turning. Then he had his duty to his homeland and his prince to solve this mystery surrounding the Morrison company and what they wanted with their people. Then, maybe he would see Gabriel and Lucian one last time, before he could finally rest. His brothers would understand, once they knew that there was nothing in this life for him. No hope of love and no hope of happiness…only pain and death.

"One thing at a time, hunter." He mumbled to himself. First, he had to inform Quirinus that the lycan twins would be coming later that morning to begin their job of guarding—

He suddenly let out an abrupt shriek as he felt a telepathic broadcast slam through his head like a two-ton beam! Quickly landing on the ground, he unconsciously transformed from an eagle back to his natural form, before curling in on himself from the force of the blow. A melody came across the mental relay, on that seemed to cut right through him and pierce him straight in the heart with its intensity!

He could barely hear the words, but it didn't matter for the meanings were clearly conveyed. It was a song of affection, expectation, and devotion, one that he could not only hear, but he could _feel_! For a few scant moments, Calix could feel life within his heart. The voice and sound seemed achingly familiar as well, but he could hardly concentrate on remembering any sort of connection when the song was very well rubbing his soul raw!

Yet, all too soon, the telepathic connection began to fade and the song came to a close. As suddenly as it had hit him, the broadcast was gone again. Calix was soon left alone and empty, lying on the hard ground of the outback, his chest heaving from the experience. He knew his brother's mind, and now that the onslaught was over, he now knew that the broadcast had come from Quirinus. And the strange, powerful, bewitching music, was similar if much more powerful, to the song that his brother's lifemate had used to call out for help.

His hand trembling, he lifted his hand to his face. When he removed them, he saw that his fingers were covered in moisture.

Looking out into the night sky towards their estate, he could just make out the shadowy edges of the house and gardens, as well as the lights coming from the many windows, sparkling like stars. Calix gazed at the far away lights in wonder.

"What sort of woman have you found, brother?"

* * *

_**Paris, France**_

Gabriel Daratrazanoff was busy rocking his baby daughter Tamara to sleep, but the tiny baby girl seemed determined not to stop crying. While he and his mate had gotten up only a few hours ago, his girl was not yet a child of the night and it was time for her to be put down for a nap.

"Oh come on, _petite fillette_. You been up all day and your _maman_ says that I am not allowed to push your mind towards sleep. So, can you please do your papa a favor and go to sleep on your own? Please?"

Out of the blue, he jerked as a voice flashed through his head knocking him off balance! His knees wobbled and he sank solidly into a nearby chair, Tamara still secured in the crook of his arm. Music and song flooded his mind and he felt a light burst throughout his soul that almost overshadowed the one that Francesca provided! The words were muffled, but the song did its job nevertheless. The song pulled at him; it lulled his senses and there was absolutely nothing could do about it. Not that he really wanted to anyway. The song seemed to command him in a sort of way, it was pleasant and mesmerizing in its attraction. He felt a unique sense of peace and quaintness, as if the music was reminding him in a rather eloquent way, how blessed he was and how much his life had changed since he had traded in the dark half of his soul for a simple, wonderful family of his own.

The telepathic connection was rough and uneven with disuse, as if it had been a long time since the bond had been accessed. However, just as Gabriel began to sense something familiar about it, the connection waned and was cut as if it had never been!

He almost gave out a verbal sigh at how bereft he felt at its absence. He sat listlessly and exhausted in the chair, not even attempting to get up. Looking down, he was astounded to find Tamara sound asleep, and he realized that the music must have somehow touched her as well through their rapport.

However, all too soon, he felt stirrings within his mind once again and he braced himself for the onslaught to return. But this time, the voice that called him was as recognizable as his own.

'_Brother…'_

Gabriel still feeling a little weak in the knees, lifted Tamara with his mind and placed her lightly in her bed before shifting the quilt over her.

'_Lucian, did you feel anything…unusual a few moments ago?'_

His twin gave a light, yet slightly uneasy laugh, _'If you mean that soul-rending, bewitching melody that turned my insides to mush, then yeah, I'd say I felt something "unusual".' _

'_So, I'm not crazy. I'm glad Francesca didn't feel it though me, I would have no answers to give her. The bond feels vaguely familiar, but very old and disused. Were you able to trace it?'_

'_I wasn't so fortunate. Jaxx is hounding me about it, but like you, I have no answers to give. I've never felt anything like it before! I thought maybe you could give me some answers.'_

Gabriel shook his head in the wonder of it all, '_Neither of us could trace it, and both of us were floored by it. That, in and of itself, is astounding.'_

Lucian was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again, _'We need to look into this, and while I don't feel in lasting effects, I don't like something having so great an effect on me and not knowing what it was.'_

He mentally nodded, _'I agree, but…it _was_ wonderful wasn't it?'_

What he asked was statement more than a question, for he knew that if his brother even felt the smallest amount of what he had felt, Lucian had felt a peculiar, yet satisfying, sort of bliss.

'_Yeah, it was wonderful…and that's what scares me…'_

* * *

_**Sydney, Australia**_

Fáelán had been circling the city for hours and dawn was fast approaching. He was tired, but something beyond even Calix's words caused him to keep going. It was like a relentless compulsion that he couldn't explain.

Flying around the city, he had searched for any trace of the scent that had somehow turned his world upside down. Yet, despite all his hunting skills, he was having quite a hard time tracking it. The trail seemed to appear and disappear at random, like the person was playing a skillful new game of keep-away. This lifemate person, whoever he or she was, was quite elusive.

Despite his brother's reassurance, he didn't have that much trust in what fate had in store for him. He had gotten the short end of the stick too many times for that. Yet…if just this once…if Calix was right, and a lifemate could do and be all that he said they could. It would be the greatest treasure that he could possibly receive—

Without warning, he felt a broadcast with the capacity and ferocity of a racing freight train slam through his head, catching him off guard and throwing him off balance!

He recognized the bond as Quirinus', but that soon became a moot point as the refrain that came with it, proceeded to rip right through all of his emotional shields and set his soul ablaze! The harmony of the music, its implications, it swirled around his spirit and made his already rampant new emotions dance.

Screeching, Fáelán could no longer maintain flight and fell out of the sky, transforming out of his raptor form in mid-descent. Hitting the ground hard, he should have been thankful that it was about three in the morning and the dirty-filled alley that he had fallen in was empty, but unfortunately, those were the last things on his mind.

Even when he was young and had had full use of his emotions, he had always hidden what he was feeling, constantly concealing them behind a detached mask. He had struggled to reattach his armor after all that had happened tonight, but it had been really a simple patch job. This haunting tune and its words of hope and faith had torn it all apart and was doing something to him that he couldn't understand.

Hugging his sides, he yelled out in anguish as his emotions stormed out of control, threatening to consume him. Pleasure and pain swirled as the music tried to pull him in a direction that he couldn't understand or comprehend. He felt as if he was tumbling in a storm without an anchor, close to neither shore but drowning instead.

He felt his fangs burst through his gums; his claw-turned-fingertips began to pierce through his gloves. Crimson began to cover his eyes in a haze and the hunger took a strangling hold of him. He wanted blood, he _needed_ blood, and he needed it now. It was as important to him as breathing. If he could just find one person, one living creature…he could feel its life in his hands, its life slipping down his throat until there was nothing lef—

Grasping his head in his hands, Fáelán tried to force back the darkness. _I can't do this! I am stronger than this. This is nothing; I am a hunter, a warrior. I will not fall._

Tears fell down from his eyes, and he buried his head against his knees, his voice keening at his struggle. Even after the song had ceased, he did not move from his position. For even if his mind would allow him, his body had yet to recover.

He was so consumed with his struggle to bury the hideous beast that was trying to raise its ugly head, that at first he could not feel the slight touch to his shoulder. However, it was the voice that broke through the darkness, loud and clear.

"Hey, are ya a'right, mate?"

His head snapped up and the human who stood before him, wheeled back in surprise. He knew what sort of sight he was, and that he had probably scared the man to death. Unlike other Carpathians, when he did get agitated and his eyes turned scarlet, they didn't stay that way. Eventually, his eyes, sclera, pupil, iris and all, turned jet black, giving him a spine-chilling, soulless, dead gaze that had sent Carpathians and vampires alike, running. It was little wonder that a human would simply become a petrified mess at the sight.

Yet, something about this wasn't right.

The dark beast that he had been struggling to bring back under lock and key within him, was now almost entirely silent. And the scent that waft through the air, that scent—

His eyes snapped back over to the human, who had fascinatingly enough approached him once again. He stayed absolutely still, making no sudden moves and allowing the man to approach on his own. _Interesting._

The fragrance of desert night blooms and fresh rainwater came tantalizingly over the wind. Fáelán observed the red baseball cap and jean jacket, confirming what he already knew. So this was the person that had started all this ruckus. The person who had single-handedly turned his life upside down, and he had spent hours trying to find. He observed the man's baggy clothes, and formless t-shirt. The guy sure didn't look like much. If it wasn't for his effect on him and that tantalizing aroma, he might have just passed him by altogether without even a glance.

The brim of the cap shadowed the face and the jacket collar was pulled up, but he could still make out a few strands of blond hair and golden skin. He watched the guy stop a few feet in front of him, feet light on the ground as if poised to fly if necessary. They stared back at one another, as if measuring each other's worth. When it seemed that neither of them was going to break the silence, Fáelán too tired to get up, was about to ask if the guy was alright, to check if he was safe. He didn't know why he would inquire, but he felt driven to make sure the unassuming human before him was safe and unharmed before he checked on his own wellbeing.

Nevertheless, before he could open his mouth to ask, a sharp, heavy wind hit the alley, toppling his destabilized body over on its side. He held his hand over his face, to block the gusts and debris, while the other supported him off the ground. Using his powers to subside the wind, he blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes—and spied a red hat, sitting right in front of his nose!

He looked at it curiously. It must have blown off his lifemate's head. Picking it up, he turned to return it to him, but that was as far as he got. Literally frozen in place, he sat there in shock, the baseball cap falling from his listless fingers.

_I have had my doubts, but now I know for certain. There _**is**_ a God…for only God could have made something this beautiful…_

Before him, illuminated by the silver moonlight, a woman stood. _A woman!_ Long locks of hair fell down her back, all the edges asymmetrical and wild, in several different shades of gold, sand, sable, and even white. Her skin practically glowed beneath the lunar rays, and as her lithe hand came from in front of her face, her eyes, which were laced with full and surprisingly dark lashes, opened revealing golden orbs the like of which he had never seen.

She was like a fairie queen, mysterious and enticing, waking up desires within him that he had never known he had. Despite the formless clothes she wore, he now saw her in a whole new light. He could imagine her true form now with more enthusiasm, and the way she looked at him with regal bearing sent a shiver of excitement up his spin.

He could only lay there motionless as she walked towards him, her movements had the grace of a thousand swans that he hadn't truly appreciated till now.

She squatted down, sitting on her hunches she looked into his eyes, her full lips held in a firm line. Fáelán was drawn to those lips, and he knew with foolish certainty that if she moved to so much as wet them with her tongue, he would kiss her. He knew that for a fact. It was so strange, this attraction to someone whose name that he didn't even know. All he knew was that he _**would**_ die for her; that was something else he knew for a fact. He didn't know how he knew it, he just did.

Raising her hand, his enchanting lady raised a hand towards him, and he suddenly wished more than anything that she would touch him. However, his wish was in vain as her fingers retracted into a fist and she brought her hand away and stood again.

She looked at him with distaste and a little—_disappointment_?

"The sun's comin' up soon, mate. Time for all good little bloodsuckers to go night-night. I suggest ya do the same."

She bent to pick up her hat, and Fáelán instantly knew that she was about to leave him. Thinking on instinct he grabbed her wrist, of course not hard enough to hurt her, but firm enough so that she could not break away.

He pulled her close, his voice firm and brokering for no arguments. "Come with me."

He watched those gilded eyes flicker in surprise before sparking in rage. His gaze turned to shock and surprise as she struck out, her teeth—or were those fangs?—biting through his clothing into his wrist! Alarmed not at the injury, but that she would come in contact with his skin, he quickly let go of her as if burned and threw himself backward, instinctively covering up his open bloody skin with his other hand.

His female agilely jumped back the instant she was released, the look of feral disdain colored her face. "I'm not coming anywhere with you, bloodsucker. I'm not about ta become anyone's midnight snack on my first night of freedom, not even yours."

She began to walk backwards not taking her eyes off him or missing a step. When she got to the end of the alley, she gave a wry grin, "Ya know, it's a shame that that you're a vampire. You're kinda cute."

And with that she disappeared, running faster than he'd ever seen a human run. That is, if she had been human…

Using the wall as support as he pulled himself to his feet, he watched the dust settle in his lifemate's wake, her alluring scent still on the wind. And it was that scent that told him that his lovely fairie queen was no human, but an entire other species actually. Breathing in deep, he smiled as the smell soothed him. Yep, she was definitely a shifter, canine if he was not mistaken, but not exactly wolf_. Hmm, I thought all the shapeshifters other than the Jaguar and Lycan and had died out millennia ago. Well, we do learn new things every day._

Bending down, he picked up the red cap she had left behind and held it under his arm. He would return it to her on the next rising.

His queen had made two mistakes. He not only had her scent now ingrained in his system, but she had unknowingly ingested a little of his blood by biting him. He could find her anywhere now. However, she had also called him a vampire, and that simply wouldn't do. He might be unworthy of a being such as she, but he wasn't that unworthy.

He walked weakly to the end of the alley and looked out into the dark empty street. He didn't want to leave her defenseless, but he knew that if he went after her in this condition, he might make things worse. Also, the way she had almost touched the bare skin of his wrist had sent a bolt of terror into his heart, along with its shiver of allure. If it had been just an inch or two lower…

Fáelán vehemently shook his head to clear it of the nightmarish thought. He truly needed to rethink this whole affair before he met her again. So, instead of going after her, he shifted into mist and sluggishly made his way to the Le Creuset mansion.

Looking back out to the city with longing, he forced himself to continue in the opposite direction of _her_.

"Stay safe until we meet again, my queen. We _shall_ see each other again."

* * *

**A/N**: Happy New Year everyone! I had meant this to be a Christmas present, but things just didn't turn out that way. I hope you guys enjoy it. The song that Isis sings is called "Fields of Hope" by Rie Tanaka (for English it's Jillian Michaels or Desiree Parker), and easily found in both Japanese and English on Youtube or Grooveshark. If you can't find it, just message me. Until next time!


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